


Runaways

by seraph7



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Romance Novel, Bodice-Ripper, Canonical Character Death, Complete, Disgrace, F/M, Forbidden Love, Harlequin Big Bang, Implied or Off-stage Rape/Non-con, Loss of Innocence, Loss of Virginity, No HEA, Old-School Romance, Oral Sex, Pregnancy, Secret Marriage, Secret Relationship, Star-crossed, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-16
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2017-12-08 17:06:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 56,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/763875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seraph7/pseuds/seraph7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was a fool for ever thinking that Ned Stark would even consider letting Sansa marry him, a Greyjoy. The son of rebels, the blood of pirates and traitors. A ward dependent on his charity.<br/>That she actually wanted to marry him didn't even seem to matter to Lord Stark. All that mattered to the man was that Robert Baratheon wanted Sansa for his vile son Joffrey and since his rival was Crown Prince, he always got exactly what he wanted.</p><p>Theon and Sansa run away together, and in a reckless desperate move exchange cloaks in secret. But their troubles are only just beginning...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Observations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [moonagestardust](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonagestardust/gifts).



> This was written for Harlequin Big Bang 2013 and so uses a lot of tropes from old- school romances. The only thing I didn't stick to was the happy ending rule.
> 
> It's based on a long ago prompt from the ASOIAF kink meme by moonagestardust so that's why I gifted it to her. I hope she likes it and sorry it took so freaking long to write it.
> 
> Thanks also to Chrysantza who looked over this and did not flinch when I chucked 30k of tragic star-crossed Sansa/Theon at her
> 
> * Author Note - please read the tags at the beginning. For some reason, that tag system will not let me use 'major character death' so I've had to substitute 'canonical character death' instead.

##  **Arya**

Arya Stark had to admit that her elder sister Sansa had been acting very out of character lately since the royal family had come to visit their home that summer. She rarely smiled, she didn't even gush over being courted by the Crown Prince any more – despite the great honour of the royal visit and the attentions of the crown prince.

In fact, now that she thought more deeply about the situation, it had been going on for a while, since Joffrey and the court had arrived at Winterfell for the King's visit, and try as she might she couldn't work out the reason for it. Once her curiosity had been ignited, she worried at it like a broken tooth, her sharp mind constantly poking and prodding at it until she was satisfied.

At first Sansa had seemed to be accepting of the Crown Prince's proposal. In fact, she'd become fairly insufferable over it, both her and Jeyne constantly chattering about it, dreaming of future glories of being the Queen of such a large kingdom and bearing Joffrey's babies but something had definitely changed within the last couple of weeks and her enthusiasm for the match had dimmed. If she didn't know better she would have said that Sansa had changed her mind; that she didn't want Joffrey at all and wanted to call the whole thing off.

Why would Sansa change her mind over something so important to her? Something so important to the whole family and the region? Sansa who as Septa Mordane never tired of reiterating knew her duty as a high-born maiden?  
It started to niggle at her so fiercely that she found herself following her and her best friend Jeyne round the grounds of Winterfell, watching closely with new eyes. There had to be a reason for this change of heart and Arya Stark was going to find out what it was- even if it killed her!

_She's my sister but now she feels like a stranger._ Arya told herself as she observed her sister and her mysterious change of heart.

She saw Sansa and Jeyne in the courtyard wrapped up warm in fur-trimmed woollen cloaks.  
Some of the lads were showing off in the Yard, keen to show off their prowess in front of the ladies and the southrons. The presence of ladies and members of the court spurring them to new heights.

Arya snorted at them trying to impress Sansa and Jeyne, those silly geese. 

_What would they know about weapon-craft?,_ she thought. She had no doubt they were only there to eye the men.

 

Theon Greyjoy was there in the yard with them, swapping coarse epithets and training with the men. He's decent with a sword, lithe and agile rather than possessing brute strength but it's when the group switch to archery practice that he really shines. Even the courtiers take notice as he hits the target every time, admiring his aim and skill.

She had to admit that he is a good archer, perhaps a great one. He used to give her tips when she was first starting to shoot, never teasing her about her will to learn how to fight. She'd asked him why he didn't reprove her for not being lady-like and he'd smiled, the long sharp mobile line of his mouth going up at the side. 

“Women of the Isles fight alongside their men and defend the home whilst we are away. Some of them even crew and command ships.” he'd remarked. “My sister used to train with me back home. She was always showing me up-”

She'd been so startled he'd been surprisingly open for a change that it wasn't until much later that she'd realised that he never spoke much of his family. Not even to Robb, who was his best friend at Winterfell.

Sansa was watching him closely that morning, hands clenching so hard on the rail her knuckles turned pale. Her breathing was shallow and her eyes bright as stars, betraying her inner excitement kept under firm control.

He glanced her way, a brief thing that only Arya sharp-eyed and curious even noticed. The corner of his mouth turned up in a smile half cocky and half tender as he returned her stare. 

Sansa met his gaze, her cheeks flushing prettily. There was no mistaking the unmistakable longing in her sister's eyes as their eyes met. The radiant flush of her cheeks as she beheld him. The tension between the two of them almost visible like sparks from a forge. 

It was a wonder that no one else was sharp eyed enough to notice what was going on right under their own noses. 

 

_Not one of her stupid crushes again? Ever since Sansa got older and started being interested in men it was all she ever seemed to think about. She lived in a dream world of songs and overblown fantasies as if she was the heroine of some sappy sentimental ballad._ Arya couldn't understand it frankly. _The Old Gods forbid I ever start acting like that! All giggly and swoony in the sight of a man. And over Theon of all people!_

He'd been around for so long she thought of him like one of her own brothers- always there, part of the fabric and background of home. But not truly part of the family- she never forgot that. But it had started to seem that Sansa had.

How could Sansa entertain romantic thoughts about him? And why would he be encouraging her silliness?  
He was darkly handsome she supposed and she'd seen enough servant-girls and maids swooning over him. He was an unrepentant rake, a scoundrel who'd dallied with most of the serving maids. She'd heard her mother talking to her septa in disapproving tones about his exploits, coming to the sorrowful conclusion he couldn't help himself; it was his Ironborn blood showing all too well. 

_What in the name of all's good was Sansa thinking of?_

_You wouldn't catch me acting like that!_ Arya thought with no little scorn as distracted from her thoughts and pondering she scampered off to see what was available from the kitchens.

_God preserve me from growing up and running man-mad!_


	2. Say That You Love Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sansa and Theon court in secret; Ned and Cat disapprove of their ward's suit and the king has a proposal that's going to change everything...

## Sansa

Sansa lingered in the Godswood enjoying the peace of the sacred grove, the gentle breeze lingering through the scarlet leaves. Her cloak was pulled close round her as she stopped in front of the heart-tree. She didn't often pray to her father's gods, they seemed too ancient and remote compared to what she knew but she loved the tranquillity of the place.

"Praying, are you?" she raised her head at the familiar slightly mocking voice.

She tried to stop her heart beating faster as she turned to face Theon. She should have grown out of this a long time since, a silly crush on a handsome older man. It wasn't as if he was even suitable. She knew why he stayed at her home; why he'd been a part of the family for as long as she could remember. 

He was her father's ward. A hostage against Lord Balon Greyjoy's good behaviour. A punishment for his rebellion and his reaving of the North and the Riverlands. His last remaining son. His only heir in the hands of his victorious enemy. They shouldn't even be friends. She shouldn't be remotely attracted to him and yet-  
He was a handsome lad, she couldn't deny it; all sharp striking features, dark shaggy shoulder length hair and surprisingly changeable eyes as deep and stormy blue-grey as the seas of his homeland.

"Theon, what are you doing here?" Sansa asked as he approached.

She knew that he didn't worship their gods. The Ironborn had their own harsh deity - the Drowned God- but Theon didn't seem to be very devout. He never had been. She couldn't help wondering what he thought of all this.  
He intrigued her because she never really knew what he was thinking. He'd learnt to hide his true feelings about them all. 

Sometimes she wondered whether he even really liked them as a family at all.  
 _He likes me though, I know he likes me,_ a little voice inside her said before she berated herself as a foolish girl.

"Going for a wander. I needed to stretch my legs a bit- mostly because your lady mother was glaring at me as if I was making the place untidy." 

Lady Catelyn was civil to him because she had to be and it was one way of getting to her brother Jon. For some reason Lady Catelyn had conceived a hatred of the bastard which was unabated. It wasn't fair; but these things were not rational. Sansa had learnt not to question it.

"Well, you can keep me company for a bit." Sansa said, patting the ground besides her. 

_he won't want to spend time with me. I'm just a silly little girl. But we used to be such friends. He used to enjoy my company..._  
She remembered him deigning to hold her hand and sing songs to her, playing at knights and fair ladies. He'd asked for a bit of her embroidery as his favour and she'd willingly given it to him, spending days secretly trying to get the tentacles and curlicues of the golden kraken right.  
He'd even tied her little embroidered ribbon to his longbow letting it flutter proudly in the breeze until her mother Lady Catelyn had spotted it. Sansa assumed that her mother had drawn him aside and had a stern word because he'd avoided her presence for a while joining in with teasing her mercilessly.  
She'd challenged him; hurt beyond measure that he would turn on her so suddenly and tease her too. How heartfelt his apology had been, how they'd fallen into a sweet intimate friendship which had deepened into so much more as she had grown older and started to find him attractive, thinking of him not as a brother but something much more intriguing and exciting. 

“You don't mind my company?”

She smiled at him in welcome. “Of course I don't-”

"You're meant to be praying-” he reminded her with a twinkle of his eyes as he drew up alongside her.

She tilted her head, giving him a look that was part innocent and flirtateous. His eyes went straight to her mouth lingering there so intently she felt as if he had touched her -or kissed her. The unbidden forbidden thought made her blush a little.

"I've prayed. I just want some peace and quiet." she slid her arm through his in a gesture of long familiarity.

"There'll be precious little of that with the King and his entourages here. I'm surprised your Septa isn't following you, urging you to spend time with your betrothed."

"We're not betrothed yet. Not officially-" her voice was suddenly sharp, causing him to look at her in surprise. 

"As good as-" he gave her a wary look as if asking: What was she trying to say?

"Can I ask you something?" she said surprising herself with her own boldness.

He leaned back on his heels, giving her a quizzical look. "What?"

"I don't have anyone else I can ask. Everyone is part of the family and they're involved-” She fretted, looking at him earnestly. 

"But I'm a stranger?"

"You're a friend." She said softly. "You know that-"

 

Theon tried hard not to think of the kiss in the alcove they'd shared at year's end. She probably didn't even remember. He could never forget the feel of her soft full lips against his, the flare of wanting she'd sparked in him.

"What is it you wanted to ask?" he asked lightly.

She turned towards him, her lovely face rather serious. "What if I was having doubts?"

Theon blinked, taken by surprise by her admission. This was a road that he didn't want to go down- however tempting it was. All his hopes and dreams bubbling to the surface at her words. He should know better but she made him an utter fool. 

"D-Doubts?" he hated his stammer, which he'd fought to suppress from his childhood leaked back. This must be more important to him than he'd thought.

"About the Prince!"

“You can't be having doubts.” he stated sounding a lot more firm than he did inside.

“But what if I am, Theon?”

“You're going to be a queen someday, if you marry him. The entire family are congratulating themselves on how well you've done. You must be the envy of every high-born maiden in the kingdom from Dorne to the Wall-” As he told her this, he tried hard not to think how it hurt, to think of her being someone else's particularly that spoilt brat Joffrey.

“I'm only telling you this because I trust you, Theon. Please don't say a word to anyone else. You won't betray my trust, will you?”  
They both knew that he wouldn't say a word to betray her trust in him. If she asked him to keep silent he would for her sake.

"You shouldn't, you know."

"What?" she smiled up at him, linking her arm in his.

"Trust me."

She looked up at him with big trusting blue eyes."You've never done me wrong."

She clung to him, her soft lips pressing urgently against his.

"I've wanted to do that since year's end-" she sighed softly. 

He prised himself away from her tempting curves before he did something immensely stupid. Like press her against the bark of one of the trees and kiss her senseless. Like pin her against the bark and lift her skirts like a serving girl and have his way with her. 

_I could never do that,_ he reproved himself. _She's too innocent and precious for me to despoil._

"Is this some sort of a game?" he rasped discomfited by the way she made him feel. The things she made him want.

She gave him an appalled look as if he'd struck her. "No!"

"Really?" _Maybe his innate cynicism would save him from his own foolishness._

She flinched from the bitterness in her voice. "Why would you think I would play games with you?" 

He didn't have to right to corrupt her, but he was too damn weak to do the right thing and walk away. This thing they had, these feelings...they were too raw, too sudden too dangerous.

"Do you not think that I adore you? That I feel as deeply as you?" her voice was low and impassioned. He could feel her fingers skim the side of his face in an affectionate caress.

“Sansa-” he was weakening, he knew it.

“I kissed you at year's end. Did that mean nothing to you, Theon?”

“You know that it did-”

His arms slid round her, holding her close. She looked up at him, head tilted invitingly for his kiss.

“Won't you?-”

He kissed her softly tentatively as if afraid that they would be caught any moment yet unable to resist her allure. Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment, yielding and melting languidly into his arms. Trust his luck that nosy Septa Mordane would turn up looking for her charge just as he was kissing her. Yet he just couldn't stop-

"Yes-" she sighed looking up at him so adoringly Theon felt like a king himself. "Ask my father. Ask him if you could court me openly... He might say yes-"

Theon sincerely doubted Lord Eddard would look favourably on him having feelings for his daughter but the way she gazed at him; as if he were the sun to her moon made him want to dare everything for her sake. 

To be able to hold hands and kiss in the sunshine. To court her like an honest man; to fasten his cloak round her and give her children. It was an impossible dream yet one he couldn't quite relinquish.

“Please Theon. For me...” she breathed, her lips pressed against the line of his throat. “-ask him for me, before it's too late. If he agrees, if he gives his words before they ask officially there's nothing else that can be done, don't you see. We can be together for real and no one can part us!”

He could never resist her pleading, not when she looked at him like that. He found himself making promises, swearing to things he had no business to be wanting.

“I will. I'll ask him today.”




"My Lord Stark, I wondered if I could have a moment of your time?"

Theon had conjured up the courage to broach the subject with her father. Just putting out feelers to find out how he would regard any suit he might press. In truth he didn't have much hope that Ned would accept his request but he had to try. He made Sansa a promise that he would speak to Lord Eddard.

"What is it, Theon? You look disturbed. Is something troubling you?" Ned said with a stern but kindly twinkle. "Come lad, walk with me to the godswood and we can converse there. It's been a while since we have talked properly."

\-----  
Theon walked alongside Ned, getting more and more nervous and tense as he gathered courage to ask what he must.  
Now. Tell him now. What have you to lose if you speak your piece? Lord Ned is a fair man, he might even agree. You won't know if you don't ask.

"I - well...I was wondering if it were..."

"Greyjoy, what is this? I've never seen you lost for words like this since you were a lad." Ned said with a touch of gentle humour.

"Your daughter- I wanted to court your daughter!" he blurted out cursing his gaucheness. 

_Bloody hell, Greyjoy! Made a pig's ear out of that one didn't ye?,_ Theon told himself ruefully.

Ned froze looking appalled with the younger man's revelation. He did not move or say a word just regarding him with those cold grey eyes.

"My daughter?" He said eventually in a voice as cold and frozen as the Wall itself. "Which one did you have your eye on, Theon?"

Theon sensed the chilly disapproval in Lord Eddard's voice. How angry is he? Is he about to strike me for my temerity?

"Sansa, my lord- he stammered. "I mean her no harm.”

Ned closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, taking several deep breaths to get himself under control and calm as ever.

“You're a young man now, and you're bound to look at my girl. But that's all you'll ever do.”

Theon's mouth fell open and he made a small noise of protest, but Ned carried on.

"Theon you must know that I could never agree to what you ask." Lord Ned was trying to be fair and kind but it rankled Theon that he would refuse him out of hand. He hadn't even given it the slightest consideration.

"Perhaps I ought to write to your father about some sort of a match. 'Tis time after all. I don't know if I should keep you here forever." He mused, evidently troubled by the turn the conversation had taken.

The thought of being sent away, of being parted from all he really knew once again- of never seeing Sansa again hurt him to the quick although he would have rather died than admit it.

"No please, Lord Eddard. Don't...don't send me away not yet."

"What else am I meant to do?" Ned sounded firm but sorrowful. "You mean to court my daughter, and you know this cannot be. Have you made approaches to her?"

Theon tried hard not to think of their sweet kisses in the Godswood, their little walks and the easy companionship they had in private. Sansa had dreamed of being able to hold hands in the sunlight but that would never happen now. He had been a fool to dream otherwise.

He shook his head. "None, my lord. I only had hoped-" his voice trailed away at the stern scowl on Lord Eddard's face. 

"I promise I shall never talk of this again. I won't approach her, now that I know that you disapprove so strongly. I would do nothing against your will. Please, my lord-"

\-----  


## Ned

 

Ned looked at the lad with suspicion but Theon seemed sincere enough. All the same, the older man had a hint of foreboding as he walked away from him, worrying at the problem like a pip in his teeth.

What is it they say? Never trust the word of a Greyjoy.

Could Theon be trusted to keep his word and stay away from his daughter?

\-----  
That night Ned sought Cat's counsel with a perturbed heart as they settled down for the night. _She would not like what he had to tell her, but it would be worse all round if she found out Theon's aims from a different source. She and Septa Mordane had to be warned. Just in case..._

"My Sweet, I was talking to Theon in the Godswood today." he said, clearing his throat.

She frowned turning to him as she brushed the dark red skeins of her long silky hair rippling down to her waist. Even after all these years he marvelled that she was his wife, that the Gods had seen fit to give her to him.

"Yes, Ned? I hope you told him I do not approve of his cavorting with the maids and going out drinking in Winter Town. He's a terrible influence on Robb – you know how he follows him around and idolises him. It's most inappropriate-" she said with a disapproving quirk to her mouth.

"Better that he slakes his lusts with the maids than with our girl." Ned said before he could stop himself.

The hair brush stopped, Cat turning to give him a searching look. "What? Ned, what are you talking about?" her voice was sharp and anxious.

Ned sighed. He was going to have to tell her all about his talk with the boy in the godswood and she didn't sound as if she was going to take it well.

"Theon and I were talking in the Godswood. He asked me if he could court... well, he asked if he could court Sansa."

"What?" The words exploded from her mouth. She nearly stood up in her agitation.

"He wanted to do what? I hope you told him what for. What in the God's name is the lad thinking of? As if he would ever-"

"I know, Cat. The thought of it is absurd. I don't know where he would have got such an idea?" Ned said hastily alarmed by just how hostile Catelyn was to the idea. Thank the Gods I told the lad no!, he thought with relief.

Ned tried to soothe his riled wife before she marched to Theon's chambers, hauled him out of bed despite it being the middle of the night and struck him for his daring. 

Cat had the fiery temper to match her auburn hair and her disapproval of the lad had never abated even after the long years he'd spent with them. 

"Whatever would what given him that idea? I thought I'd beaten that notion out of him a long time ago."

"They're both young and females seem to find him attractive. He's an attractive boy and he has that Ironborn swagger... Sansa is growing up, she's bound to have an eye for-"

"Not that boy!" Cat growled, most displeased with Theon's temerity.

Ned knew it was a lost cause and ceased to argue.

 

_He could still recollect the horrified look on her face when he had returned from the subduing of Pyke with a sullen deeply unhappy Theon in tow._

_What in the name of all the Seven have you done?" she breathed once she had greeted him, and withdrawn to see the new addition to their household._

_Ned hastened to introduce her to the boy. He stared at her with bruised haunted eyes, gaze riveted to the floor. “This is Theon Greyjoy, Balon's youngest lad. He's coming to stay with us.”_

_“How long for?”_

_Ned didn't know how long exactly the boy was going to be with them. It was all dependent on Balon Greyjoy continued good behaviour and submission to the royal will. He knew that the first sign of Balon rising up in rebellion, raiding once more would mean he would have to take the boy's life. He hoped Balon would refrain as he held his last son and heir – but Greyjoy, Lord Reaper himself had never been a reasonable man._

_Cat blinked in shock. “He's going to live here? With us?” her voice rose at the end in agitation._

_“Catelyn, darling-”_

_“I can't believe you would do this! To bring him up besides our children? Are you out of your mind, Ned? He'll murder us in our sleep!_

_"He's just a boy, Cat. Torn from everything he knows. His Grace ordered me to bring him here, bring him up as one of our own.” he pleaded, hoping to soften her heart. He was asking a great deal of her, he knew that but what could he do?_

_"You can't! Ned!" she said staring at her husband appalled by what she was asking of her._

_"My hands are tied, I have no choice, Cat don't you see?” Ned pleaded with his wife, willing her to understand. He knew he was asking so much of her, how she struggled with the inclusion of Jon into their household and now this traumatised boy torn from everything he knew, but he had his duty to perform._

_“The lad was given to me as a ward for Balon's continued obedience. Have mercy on him, Cat my love.”_

_Cat drew him aside, pulling on his sleeve. “He's Balon's son. He has **their** blood in him. Don't you know how the Ironborn hold grudges? Your forces killed his brothers. What will he do to our children? They will never be safe-”_

_“He's here as surety. As a bond for Balon's good behaviour. He's still young. He can be shaped into a different man, a better man. Cat, have faith in me-” Ned pleaded. “I need your help, I can't do this without you, love.”_

_He could see her struggle with the idea. Having Theon in the house alongside her own family went against everything she held dear._

_She had that bone-deep dislike of Ironmen that most Riverlanders had. Ned wasn't entirely sure that he could blame her for her obvious reluctance to accept him. Years and generation of raids had left their mark, and the Riverlander's hatred of his kind ran deep. “I have faith in you, you know I do. I don't have faith in him.” She said reluctantly, yet Ned knew he had won her over._

_But she would never like the boy, and she never forgot his blood or his birth._

\-----

“I told him it would never happen in a thousand years. He won't go against us Cat. The boy isn't stupid-" Even as Ned told her this out loud, he was troubled.

"He has no honour, the boy has nothing. How is he going to court our girl with nothing?" Cat scowled in her fury.

“I don't think he's even approached her yet. It's politics, Cat.”

"What do you mean?"

"Marrying our daughter would give him a place in the world, his feet under the table with us for good." Ned said trying to reassure her and himself. “It's nothing but ambition, not desire. He backed down soon enough once I had expressed my disapproval.”

“I sincerely hope you are right, Eddard Stark-” Cat said dubiously settling into bed.

\-----

## Theon

"May I speak to you for a moment, Theon?"

He groaned to himself for a moment. There was was no mistaking that imperious voice. Lady Catelyn never spoke to him for any extended amount of time unless she was berating him for something. It was a close run thing whether she disliked him or the bastard more. 

She had never trusted him - not one inch - ever since he had arrived at Winterfell. She hated the thought of him associating with her eldest son Robb and with Sansa, her darling treasure. If she had her way, she wouldn't have let him over the threshold.

“What is this I hear about you pursuing my daughter Sansa? Is this true-”

Theon thought to deny it but she cut over him, unwilling to hear his excuses and justifications.

“You are old enough to know better!”

He resented her scolding, her barely concealed distrust. She'd never got past his blood or his birth. 

“Do you think that I don't know exactly what you get up to in town? You dally with the serving maids, and what about the Miller's wife?

“Its not true!” He protested. “It's nothing more than rumour!” 

Sure there's been a few kisses and tumbles, some nights with the harlots of Winter Town, but his feelings for Sansa were a world away from that.  
 _If I had Sansa, I wouldn't need those others. She would be everything I need. Soul-mate, wife and lover. Worthy of being the Lady of the Isles once I regain what is mine. My Lady of the Isles..._

“I don't want you anywhere near my daughter-” she snapped. “I know your type, silver tongued devil, tell a girl anything they want to hear. You aim too high, Ironman!”

And wasn't it just like her to rub it in his face that he was in no way worthy of her daughter. Didn't she think he already knew that? He seethed with resentment.

“You've never liked me, from when I came here.” He accused. “You don't even pretend to hide it, do you Lady Catelyn?”

She glared at him with baleful eyes. “Do you blame me?”

If he were honest, he didn't blame her. He knew who and what he was. Hadn't he had to live with the distrust and disapproval of these Greenlanders day after day? It rankled when he knew he was Iron-born by blood and worth ten of them as his father had always said.

“She is far too good for the likes of you, and you know it all too well.”

“All I desired was to court her, nothing more. I won't do it, since Lord Ned and you disapprove so strongly.”

Lady Catelyn was not mollified by his words. She scowled at him. “I don't care how many whores you tup in town, perhaps I can't stop you dallying with our serving maids, but Sansa is out of bounds! Stay away from her, or I swear I will make you rue the day you came here and interloped into my family!”

“In case you had forgotten I didn't come here through choice.” he jabbed bitterly, seeking to hurt her, to make her feel just a little guilt about her treatment of him.

Her blue eyes, so like Sansa's but cold and distrusting glared at him. “Oh no Theon, I had by no means forgotten-”

\-----

Theon slunk away in defeat, reviewing his options now that Lady Catlyn and Lord Eddard had expressed their strong displeasure about the match between him and their daughter.

 _I knew it wouldn't work._ He could never forget the horror on Lord Eddard's face when he had finally admitted that he wanted to court his Sansa. Let alone the righteous outrage of Lady Catelyn.

He hadn't even assured him that he wouldn't be stuck here in Winterfell for ever and ever, little more than a glorified servant.  
When will my life truly begin? 

He was of more than an age to get married and start a family. Robb would be finding a wife soon and leaving the family home. Sansa too had grown into a beautiful woman one who would have little trouble finding a man to fall in love with her and marry her. 

And he was stuck here trapped in the same routine, training with the men at arms, spending his gold in Winter Town drowning his sorrows and finding a willing female to slake his lusts with.

He wanted more than this. 

_If I were free, back home on the Isles I would have a wife of my own, might even have a child on the way._

_My life was stolen from me. Now I want it back._  
\-----

The moment Theon laid eyes on the prince as the household lined up to greet their royal guests in their best, he developed a powerful dislike of him. 

Surely he was good-looking enough with his long golden curls and green eyes. The typical knightly good looks that high-born girls like Sansa and her little handmaiden Jeyne Poole swooned over. In every conceivable way he was the better match for Lord Stark's daughter, even Theon had to admit it.

His clothes and tailoring made Theon seethe with envious bile. He hated the sneering superior way Joffrey looked round him, as if nothing at Winterfell was good enough for him to lay eyes on. He hated those fat wormy lips and the way his eyes lingered on Sansa with a lascivious intent that infuriated Theon.

 _I'd like to knock every tooth in his head down his throat. Smarmy little bastard,_ he thought with unaccustomed venom.

King Robert greeted the Starks with the easy familiarity of old friends, clapping Ned on the back like a long-lost brother and Lady Catelyn with a kiss on her cheek.

 Theon waited for the moment when he would be passed by yet again. He wasn't a Stark and no one would ever let him forget it, not for a moment.

“Ah, the Greyjoy lad.” Robert remarked, sizing him up. Theon stood still and rigid to attention waiting for the customary insult, the slurs on his house and his blood. “You still have him, Ned?”

"Aye, I can hardly send him back now, Robert, can I?” Ned said. “The lad's been brought up with my own children. He's wanted for nothing-”

 _Except for acceptance. Except for love,_ Theon thought with a flash of resentment. _The only one who loves me here is Sansa._

Robert gave a scornful snort. “You're a braver man than I, that's for sure.”

“I did my duty to the crown, nothing more.” Ned said stiffly. “Lord Balon hasn't acted up since, has he?”

“Not surprised since you have his only son.” Robert snorted, acting as if Theon wasn't right in front of him. “Balon might be a crank, but he knows if he messes up it's the end of his line for sure.”

Theon held his tongue with a struggle. He felt a faint brush of a hand against his and noticed Sansa had moved subtly next to him to give him some silent comfort. He returned the pressure, sneaking a glance at her. The corner of her lips turned up just a little, a sweet comforting smile he appreciated.

\-----

## Ned

The musicians Lord Eddard had hired to entertain the royal guests headed to the gallery and started to play, melodies from the Reach and Dorne, stirring lively Northern dances that soon filled the dance-floor and made the gathering that bit more lively.  
Robert and Ned watched the younger members of the family dance and enjoy themselves.

Joffrey sat to the side with his mother nose in the air too proud to dance with the rest of them. Ned looked askance at the boy. _Joffrey does himself no favours with his airs and graces. What would it cost him to dance with the rest of them?_

It was very strange because Robert had always been down to earth, even Lord Renly for all his court polish and fine clothes didn't give himself the airs that this boy did. Ned suspected it was his mother's influence. The Lannisters were known for their pride and high opinion of themselves and the boy had evidently inherited that trait.

How fair his Sansa looked dancing with her brothers and little Jeyne Poole. She danced a couple of court dances with Lord Renly who was a graceful mover as was to be expected.

The languorous strains of the Tarantelle caught Ned's attention pulling him from his worried reverie. It was a bit of a racy dance -rather more daring than usual- but they all seemed to enjoy it. It was all the rage from the Wall to Dorne and the youngsters all seemed to be mad for it. He would seem like a killjoy if he were to gainsay it now. 

On the other hand he'd not expected Theon to take advantage of the situation to claim this dance with Sansa. His arm slid round her waist as if it belonged there. Their bodies pressed together gracefully moving through the measures. She gazed up at the young man, adoringly as if there were no one else in the room but them.  


It made Ned feel very uneasy, but there was nothing concrete that he could put his finger on the cause his foreboding. Nothing except to warn Cat and Septa Mordane to keep an eye on their daughter.

 _Is it because I know he wants to court her that I see it? Or am I right to be concerned?_ Ned decided not to intervene. _Besides tonight is the night Robert will announce the betrothal between Joffrey and Sansa. She will be out of his reach soon enough. Let the lad have his dance with his daughter, just this once._

 

The king stood up on the dais, his bleary blue eyes befuddled with drink. What a magnificent wreck of a man! The time was when Robert Baratheon, the famed and ferocious warrior was a king to admire and look up to. He didn't look the part any more. Drink had thickened his waist and given him a belly as round as a tun of mead, bleared his eyes until they were a faint reflection of their old blue brilliance and coarsened his features. It was ever more cruel that his younger brother Renly, Lord of Storm's End had accompanied the royal party on their trip North and stood as a living youthful reminder of what he once was.

"I'm been considering a match between our families. Stark and Baratheon joined together as they always should have been. How about it, Ned, my old dear friend? My son and heir and your beautiful daughter. A second chance for both our houses.”

There was a hubbub of excitement as the company realised what the king was proposing. A wedding match between Stark and Baratheon, a jump in fortunes for the North. 

Joffrey and his mother Cersei sat at the top table, looking very smug and pleased with themselves. You would almost think that the proposed wedding was their idea.

The rest of the crowd were applauding the good fortune of the family and the rise of fortune for the Starks. Theon felt sick to the stomach at the thought. Just like that his happy mood was completely gone. 

_Joffrey having the girl he'd longed for secretly for years..._  
He couldn't look at them all their self-congratulatory faces, the hubbub of discussion and excitement as soon as the king had announced the betrothal. He had to get out of there, now, before he said something in public he would regret.  
He had a mental vision of him standing up and objecting to the proposal, recklessly challenging the prince in single combat for her hand. 

_Gods, I'm as daft as she used to be as a child! This isn't some sweet fairy-tale from a ballad or told to children by a doting septa. Ned and Catelyn have already spoken against it. It's not going to happen. Love is not going to conquer all, much as I would like it too._

He downed his wine, seeking oblivion at the bottom of his goblet. Just his luck that this night, of all nights, he would find it maddeningly elusive.

\-----

_A match between Stark and Baratheon, as it always should have been..._

King Robert's declaration echoed in his mind as the feast went on. If he were honest with himself, Ned was conflicted by his friend's proposal. 

On one hand, there was no denying that it was a grand match. A match that every other high-born family in the kingdom would be envious of. His eldest daughter and the Crown Prince of the Seven Kingdoms!  
If his Sansa married Joffrey then in time she would be Queen. They would be allied to the highest in the land. Robert was his foster brother and his best friend. Despite their differences he had always been close to the Storm Lord. He'd supported his rebellion, his ascent to the throne. He was his loyal subject.

He should have been the happiest noble father in the Seven Kingdoms. So why did he have this sense of foreboding when he looked at the young couple- and his ward steadily drinking in the corner with a bleak look on his face, unable to tear his eyes from his daughter.

What will become of this?

 

Sansa slipped away from the feast to go and find Theon, pleading over excitement and a headache to her mother and her septa. She'd caught the devastated look on his face when the king had announced the match to Joffrey, could feel his miserable gaze on her and could do nothing trapped as she was on the high dais between her parents and the royal party. 

 

“Why are you being so hateful?” She started, her voice sharp with anxiety. She been fretting about him, worrying that he was about to do something foolhardy and stupid and all this time he was going to go and drown his sorrows in the stables.

He just glared at her taking a swig of the mead he'd lifted from the table. He looked as if he was well on the way to getting thoroughly drunk, and he gave not a damn what anyone might think. "Why d'ye even care, Lady Sansa?" his eyes glinted in challenge. He was spoiling for a fight. She knew that sour gleam in his eyes.

She flushed with anger getting right into his face."You have no right to judge me." 

He shrugged, infuriating her even further. 

"-And to make such a scene in the Grand Hall when mother and Septa Mordane still ask me sharp questions about you! Have you lost your wits, my lord?"

“You berate me for not being pleased about your rise to fortune. You'll excuse me if I don't dance for joy at your news my lady.”  
She blinked at the cutting caustic tone of voice. She knew he could be sharp-tongued and cruel when the dark humour took him but never with her. _He was always kinder and gentle with me._

“There's no need for that.” she reproved him.

He raised one dark mocking eyebrow at her. "Isn't there?"

She scowled at him, utterly exasperated by his immature behaviour. “I came out here because I thought you were upset. If you're going to be like that then I'll just go back inside and leave you to stew."

He didn't even hide the resentment in his voice, taking another swig of the mead to sustain his low mood. “Go on then. Go! See if I damn well care.”

You do care, she saw now so clearly. You care one hell of a lot.

She turned towards him, eyes blazing. “Why are you so angry with me? Why pretend you don't care when you so clearly do?”

He made a scornful noise but didn't answer her.

“Don't you dare deny it, you are angry at me. You can barely look at me.”

“You should never have kissed me.” he said, not hiding the bitter edge to his voice.

“Why?” 

He turned away from her. 

“Tell me why I shouldn't have kissed you. You certainly did not protest at the time, my lord?” she retorted.

His answer was torn from deep inside him. “Because now I want something I can never have.”

“O Theon, don't-” she sighed sounding on the edge of tears. She closed her eyes surrendering to his embrace and the tears leaked out of her closed shut eyes. He wanted nothing better than to kiss them away, to taste the salt of tears and soothe her sorrow.

“Don't what? Don't be angry? Don't desire you with every last speck of my heart?” he said urgently.

_To hear him say it openly, to hear how much he longed for her futile as it was broke her heart._

It wasn't fair to take it out on her, none of this was her fault, but he felt so helpless, so frustrated by his loss he was lashing out. _Would he ever stop wanting her? He'd sworn to Lord Ned that he would not pursue his daughter, but how was he meant to obey when she was the best of him? When he wanted her so damn much?_

“I didn't know they were going to do this. I was as blind-sided as you.”

“You seemed more than pleased with the proposal in public?” he said.

She shook her head in exasperation. “How would it have looked if I had recoiled publicly in horror? When my family have been so elevated?”

He hadn't seen it from her viewpoint. Gods, what a fool he'd been. So much for assuring Lord Eddard that he would court his daughter no more and would forget longing for her. That wasn't working out so well for him right now, was it?

“Everything's moving so fast and he's so ardent... You cannot blame me for being a little dazzled. But I do care what you think and I would never want you to be hurt. This is so damned hard-”

He caught her wrist, pressing his lips to the tender sensitive flesh. She shuddered with pleasure under the touch of his lips. All the old magic and desire was still there between them, mocking them both with just how hopeless it was. “All you have to do is tell them you don't want him, that you want-”

 _That you want me,_ he thought wildly even though he was being a love-struck fool. 

“- you told me that Father wouldn't even countenance you courting me. What future do we have?” her sweet voice was soft but weary.

He hated it that she spoke the truth, that their love was more hopeless than ever and yet he was in so deep that he could not escape it's coils.

“I have to do what's right for my House. It's my duty, don't you understand that? She pleaded with him, willing him to understand her predicament. “I have to do the right thing and marry Joffrey.” If ever her duty seemed harsh and onerous, now was the moment. Inwardly she wanted to rail against the fate that parted them, the fate that tore her away from Theon but what choice did she have? She was bound to obey the King and her father. 

“Everyone expects me to do it,” she said trying to justify herself.

“So will ye wed him, then? D'ye wish me to dance and be merry at your wedding?”

“Oh Theon-” she sighed.“I'm trying to be practical.” She admitted. “It's harder than I thought coming to terms with the fact that we can't be together, and now my future is being mapped out by our fathers-”

When their lips came together once more it was not gentle. She clung to him, her need as urgent and desperate as his.

She looked up at him with those bewitching blue eyes trembling with the passion he'd unleashed in her.

"You might be able to wear a mask and put your feelings aside for the good of your family, but I can't. I'm sorry I want you too much, and I'm too selfish." It was rare that he was so emotionally honest, showing her his own longing and vulnerability.

“Do you really think it is that easy for me?” She said as he held her close.

“Gods, help us both Theon.” she leaned against him as his arms were wrapped round her.


	3. Second Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rivalry between Joffrey and Theon turns to violence as he discovers the prince up to no good in the stables, Sansa is having second thoughts about her royal match and feeling the pressure and things are getting intolerable for our lovers...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for attempted non-con, offensive language and violence.

The moment that Theon laid eyes on the prince he realised exactly why he hated the spoiled little bastard and why he didn't want him anywhere near Sansa. It was a violent dislike and it wasn't helped by the fact that he was sickening powerfully jealous of her royal swain – and worse, he could confide in no one else about it, not even Robb his best friend.

Joffrey didn't trouble to lower his voice not caring how offensive his tone got. Now he was trying to be needlessly provocative, spoiling for a fight and knowing that Theon could do nothing about it. His royal blood gave him immunity to say what he pleased.

“Greyjoy, isn't it? He intoned, looking down his nose at him with a supercilious look remarkably like his mother the Queen.

“That's what I have the honour of being called.” he replied with a mocking little bow. “-your Grace.”

The blonde frowned as if he sensed he was being thoroughly mocked.  


“I don't know about honour-” Joffrey sneered, keen to sharpen the talons of his wits on someone new. “Your father was a rebel with ideas above his station.”

Theon grinned insolently, though his voice was exaggeratedly polite. “So everyone keeps saying. Thank the gods I have all you people to remind me just how wrong my father was.”

“What was all that about?” Robb's brow furrowed in confusion. He was evidently surprised by the viciousness of Joffrey's verbal attacks but Theon wasn't. He knew the prince disliked him - and the feeling was mutual- but did he know enough to be his rival?

“No idea-” Theon said blandly, though he was furious inside.

“Ignore him Theon, he's nothing but a bully. He was being insulting to Jon earlier.” his clear blue eyes so like his sister's and his mother's narrowed in the prince's direction. Evidently his friend's opinion of the prince was just as dire as his. “To be honest with you, I will be glad when the royal party leave and darken our doors no more. I suspect Father and Mother privately feel the same.”

Obviously pleased by the way he'd gotten away with insulting Theon and sensing a new and rewarding target for his spite Joffrey stepped up his campaign. Theon soon learned to inwardly dread the appearance of the spoilt brat and his red and gold guards, even though he was not shy in retaliating with quips. 

“It's about time you learned your place,” Joffrey said not caring how loud and offensive his voice was. “Lord Stark should have kept you in the dungeons, fed you on bread and water.”

Theon kept silent, wishing a painful and prolonged death on the prince. It was most satisfying to think up creative ways to inflict pain on Joffrey. Give him the sweating sickness, give him the stone! 

He imagined playing a most vicious game of the Finger Game, making sure he injured the brat every time. 

“Nothing but a peasant, a rebel and a traitor. No wonder your people steal from their betters, you'd all starve on those rocks of yours, wouldn't you?” He laughed at his own jape, smirking at his witticism.  
Theon just stared insolently at the prince wishing an ignominious and miserable end on the little bastard.

“Those dirty little scuts in their rags and patches.” Joffrey said to his guard with the horrific scar on his face, who just took in his hateful words with an impassive face.

“You know what I think? You're all backwards heathen animals worshipping some stupid Drowned God...What do you do, stand at the seashore with your arms raised wailing: 'Squid, oh mighty squid bless us with salt and iron'!”

Theon was in no way religious but he would gladly have struck him for heresy. How dare he insult everything about him and he get away with it because he is the Prince and we must all genuflect in front of him and his family they aren't any better than any of us. There's nothing special about them.

The only thing that made him feel in the slightest bit better was the fact that it was him who Sansa loved and had feelings for, not this spoilt brat! And no he didn't feel the slightest bit of guilt in dallying with her. Not any more when she would be better off without that spoilt little bully.

May the best man win, Joffrey Theon told himself, his mood considerably lightened. It certainly won't be you!  
\-----

 

Theon rounded the corner of the stable and started to work on his saddle, cleaning and oiling the worn leather. He found the rhythmic movements oddly soothing, enabling him to think about things and turn them over in his head. 

He was so wrapped up in his own thoughts and his work it was a while before he noticed he was not alone, as a figure came out of the shadows.

"Are we alone?" said a familiar feminine voice right behind him. 

He must have a death-wish. Of all the girls to end up entangled in a fraught secret relationship he only had to go and pick Sansa Stark. The treasure of the North. The apple of Lord Eddard's eye. The girl the whole family all had high hopes for. And here they were skulking round in an empty stable clinging to shadows to hide their embraces.

"Sansa!" 

She flew into his arms, pressing her mouth to his. Theon kissed her sweet mouth, the taste of forbidden fruit proving irresistible. She wrapped her arms around his neck pulling him close and looking adoringly into his eyes with a gentle smile on her lips he wanted to taste. He couldn't help himself, he was like a horny squire round her. He couldn't believe his luck she seemed to want him back, gazing at him with adoring eyes.

He smirked, feeling gratified by the strength of her emotions displayed to him. "I take it you're glad to see me then?" he quipped, confident cocky grin in place.

_She must never know how deeply I care for her._

She punched him on the arm surprisingly hard. "Don't mock me."

Her rebuke made him serious, set him to soothing the delicious little scowl from her face. "I'm not, believe me." He stroked her copper bright hair tangling his fingers in the fiery strands. "I saw you in the yard."

"I know." She breathed, pressing another kiss to his thumb, which was still caressing her lips. "I had to see you. I fear it wasn't discreet. I'm sorry."

He rubbed his thumb against the softness of her bottom lip, so plump and kissable."Don't be sorry."

"Did you miss me?"

"You know that I did."

She leaned closer, her lips barely brushing his skin. "I want to hear you say it."

_When did you learn to become such a temptress? When did I become so unable to resist your allure. I am a fool to want you, and yet I do. I always exactly what I can't have_

"Yes, I missed you. Happy now?"

She kissed him, a sweet smile on her lips.

"Your Septa will be wondering where you are." He told her, a trace of desperation in his voice. He made no move to get away from her, so she didn't take his protests seriously.

The couple were so wrapped up in each other intoxicated by their kisses, so entranced by one another they failed to notice a golden haired shadow watching them from the door of the stable. Silently he padded away vowing vengeance for this insult.  
\-----  
As Sansa spent more time with the Crown Prince she started to have second third and even fourth thoughts about marrying Joffrey. Much as she tried valiantly to make allowances for his royal birth, if she were completely honest with herself she found she didn't actually like Joffrey all that much.

Every time he was rude to one of her family, or the servants who laboured to serve him, her opinion of him fell even lower.

She decided to talk to her septa. Perhaps she would be able to give her some advice, to smooth out some of the tangled emotions in her head. She didn't want to disappoint anyone, and she knew what was at stake. But she couldn't help wanting Theon even though she knew that her parents would not approve of his suit, if she was honest he was the only man she really wanted to court her. 

 

“Sansa, dear what is it?” Septa Mordane said noticing her hovering by her side once they were alone. Arya had made herself scarce eager to avoid more feminine pursuits and Jeyne was otherwise engaged. She was never going to get another chance to talk seriously to her septa about this.

“Can I talk to you?” she said, fidgeting a little. “-in confidence?”

The septa looked up from her needlework. “Of course you can dear. Come and sit, make yourself comfortable.”

“Er...it's about the prince-” Sansa started, taking a seat next to the older woman.

Septa Mordane waxed lyrical about his favourite pupil's good fortune in nagging such a desirable match. “You must be so excited about marrying Joffrey! You've done so well for yourself. I'm very proud of you, my dear.”  
Normally Sansa would have agreed with her, but her forebodings made her wonder whether she had done the right thing in asking Septa Mordane for her opinion. _She is never going to approve of understand my feelings for Theon or my misgivings about Joffrey. No sensible woman would, but I can't ignore my instincts._

“Septa...what if I were-”

The older woman looked up noticing the tone of her voice, her pale face and anxious wringing of hands.

“What is it, dear girl?” she asked in a gentler tone, seeking to reassure her star pupil. 

Sansa decided to be bold as Theon would be and take the plunge. “What if I were having second thoughts?” she admitted.

Septa Mordane's face fell. Her mouth gaped in consternation at her favourite pupil's admission. “Second thoughts? What second thoughts?”

Sansa bit her lip, unsure about whether to go on and what reception her confession would have. 

“I don't know if I really want to marry him.”

“Sansa, what are you talking about? It must be just nerves. Don't you realise how lucky you are? You must be the envy of every high-born maiden in the Seven kingdoms!”

She wanted to confess how horrendous Joffrey was, what exactly he was capable of behind closed doors but she couldn't. Septa Mordane and my mother will never believe me. What if they blame me?

\-----  
She could still remember that awful afternoon he'd cornered her in the stable demanding liberties and refusing to listen to her protests. 

“Joffrey? Why did you ask me to meet you here? You know we must be chaperoned. I'll go and get one of my brothers, I'm sure Robb or Jon will be in the yard-”

He blocked her path, barring the way with one forearm. “No, my lady. You'll stay right here.”

She demurred, starting to be scared of Joffrey's bizarre behaviour and the feverish glitter in his eyes as he looked her up and down. 

“It's not decent Joffrey! I really must leave-” her voice was rising in a panic. I have to get away from him. This was a terrible mistake!

"You're going to be mine anyway, so what does it matter if I have you now or later?" he sneered, pawing at her dress and making her feel like a piece of meat from the kennel. She wished she hadn't let herself be persuaded to be alone with him. 

How could she have been such an idiot. I didn't think he would treat me with dishonour.

"Joff, no. Please, we can't." She struggled to get away from him, kicking out at him in a frantic panic but he was surprisingly strong holding her in an iron grip. "I don't want this. Please stop!"

"Stop mewling-" he'd sneered, his breath smelling of alcohol. Sansa wondered where he had got enough of it to get so drunk. "Why else would you come here to see me alone. Without your little friend Jeyne?" his eyes narrowed into a leer. "I should have both of you at once. Mistress and maid...Watch the both of you go at it together."

How dare he! Sansa was inwardly outraged at his lack of respect and the foul things he was saying to her. She'd managed to convince herself that he was keen to woo her and a small part of her girlish heart thrilled at having such a well-born and handsome suitor. 

He was no Theon and he didn't make her feel half as desired and happy, but she could try to make the best of it for her family's sake. But seeing what was behind the courtly mask Sansa wanted nothing to do with him any more. 

"I thought you just wanted to talk-" she said in a small voice feeling very foolish and unworldly. 

Maybe she was the fool to have believed he would treat her honourably. She should never have listened to him. For all Theon's bravado and his dire reputation, he'd always tried to treat her with respect and a measure of gentleness.

She stamped on his foot hard in an attempt to get him to stop but she only managed to anger him even more.

"You little slut!" he hissed, slapping her across the face in a towering rage. 

She was terrified at the look of hate in Joffrey's eyes, how he had turned vicious in the blink of an eye. She tried to scrabble away, opening her mouth to cry for help. Sansa hadn't liked him before but she was truly terrified of him now.  
 _No, no, not like this. He wouldn't be as cruel as to dishonour her. No one would ever believe her if she tried to tell the truth._

 

Theon was heading towards the stables, keen to get away from Winterfell and the suffocating atmosphere of the royal visit. He could tell that he was not wanted here at the moment and the sight of smug Joffrey and King Robert who had blithely ruined all his prospects, when he'd proposed the match between his son and Sansa annoyed and irritated him beyond measure.

He thought he heard signs of a struggle in one of the far stalls, a muffled voice and scuffling. He moved forward, employing as much stealth as he could. Was that a female voice in distress he heard?

Wait a second, he would swear that was Joffrey the smug little bastard. He'd know that grating tone anywhere. What the devil was going on?

Keen to get some ammunition to pin on the aggravating prince and further his own cause he moved to the crack in the door, peering in. What he saw made him so furious, his hand went to his dagger unbidden.

I'm going to kill him, slowly with my bare hands. I won't even need a weapon. How dare Joffrey lay rough hands on Sansa, his Sansa. A flare of possessiveness ripped through him.

Aren't you in deep? He told himself. She's not yours, you know that she can never be yours now that Lord Eddard and Lady Catelyn have spoken, she's promised to this venal little brat. 

Even as he told himself that, he knew deep down that it was not true. She is as much mine as I am hers, we were made for each other. He does not deserve to touch the hem of her garment!

“No, no Joffrey leave me alone!” she pleaded, scrabbling away from him. 

The prince smirked and ripped her dress open leering at her exposed pale flesh. She struggled to cover her self but he was pulling her folded arms away, grinning at her distress.

“That's it, let's see what I'm getting, shall we?” he sneered.

That was it! Theon waded in, casting all caution to the winds. He was so angry, a haze of red descending across his vision that there was no telling what he might do.

He pulled the prince off her, shoving him against the wall of the stable. 

Joffrey cannoned into the wall, squawking in outrage.

She let out a squeak of distress at being discovered in such a compromising situation, but Theon was too preoccupied with his revenge for the moment. He punched Joffrey in the face, feeling satisfaction as he felt the impact of fist on the bones of his rival's face. 

“You blacked my eye! You've broken my nose, you bastard!” squealed Joffrey clutching his face in pain. 

Sansa huddled in the corner desperately trying to pull the torn edges of her dress together.  


“You keep away from her!” He found himself shouting at Joffrey, pulling him up by his furred collar, and shaking him like a rat. “What the hell are you playing at?”

Joffrey grinned through bloodied lips. “She's my wife-to be, Greyjoy. What's it to you what we do?”

Theon shoved him to the ground and kicked Joffrey viciously in the stomach. The prince groaned, writhing on the floor in pain.

Frankly he had no pity for the bastard. Every time he thought of what Joffrey had been planning to do to Sansa, that red haze of anger descended again. I'll tear the little fucker apart...

“You go near her again, and you'll get worse, I promise you, you little shit.” he snarled. He turned to her. “Sansa sweetling, are you hurt?”

She stifled her sobs, shaking her head. “N-no Theon-”

Joffrey smirked, keen to get one last dig at his rival in. “I see how it is...you're jealous, Greyjoy! Is that it? You seethe with jealousy because you wish you could have had a go on her as well.”

“What?” Theon looked at him appalled at his crassness.

Joffrey grinned, aiming to provoke Theon once more to violence. “You heard me. Tell you what, turn a blind eye and I might let you have a go on her once I'm done. I can't say fairer than that?”

Theon picked him up and pinned him against the wall. “I don't ever want to hear you say anything like that again. Don't think your royal blood is going to protect you.”

“I'll get you for this. You wait until my father hears of this. You laying hands on a prince. They'll string you up for this, you peasant.” Joffrey hissed.

Theon mocked him to his face, glad that for once the boot was on the other foot. Gods, it was satisfying seeing the prince squirm! “They'll have to catch me first, my lord and prove it.” he dropped him like a sack of meal.

Joffrey landed heavily on his arse, narrowly missing some dung. 

“Now crawl away from here before I change my mind, and if I hear you say a word about this, one word sliding out of that lying mouth of yours-” Theon let the threat speak for himself.

Joffrey gulped cravenly and started to crawl away from the scene.

“That's it. You crawl away, you little worm-” Theon snarled still angered by Joffrey and his exploits.

 

“Theon! You-” She stammered. “You're here. You came for me.”  
Gods, he'd saved her. She had never seen him in such a rage. It was terrifying yet secretly exhilarating.

He looked worried and yet a bit cross with her. "You never wander off alone with a man. Didn't your septa teach you that?" he shook her a little in exasperation.

"I thought he'd have his bodyguard with him. I didn't realise he'd give them the slip and get me alone. I really didn't. I tried to get away." She bit back another sob, trying to calm down a bit.

"You should have a care my lady. Not all men are as honourable as your father." She noticed that he didn't mention himself as honourable. “Anything could have happened to you!”

She realised that fear was at the root of his scolding. He'd been terrified for her, seeing her in that awful situation. Now that the adrenaline of combat had worn off, the implications of what happened had started to sink in for him.

"Please just take me home-" she said in a small voice feeling like she was about to collapse with the strain of the afternoon's events.

Theon opened his mouth as if he were about to say something else but he spotted the distress she was in. 

Sansa was shaking like a blade of grass in a high gale. She looked pale and fragile. A strong urge to protect her came over him. I won't let any man hurt her, even the crown Prince himself. There was going to be trouble, no doubt, the moment Joffrey squealed to his parents and Lord and Lady Stark that he'd beaten him.

"You're shivering, love. Here." He slipped off his cloak and fastened it round her. “That should keep you warm until we get back to the castle.”

## Joffrey

Joffrey had been unable to hide his injuries from Lord Ned and the rest of his party. Of course he hadn't wanted to admit exactly how he had earned those bruises. It was just his bad luck that his Uncle Renly spotted his injuries and would not shut up about them. The stupid dandy enjoyed making him look a fool and needling him so subtly that others didn't notice. But Joffrey did and he hated his young glamorous uncle so handsome and admired by the ladies.

“What happened to you, Joffrey. You look like you've been in the wars?”

“What happened, lad. Did ye get in a fight?” the two royal brothers laughed their heads off, highly amused by the thought.

Once Renly had drawn attention to him and directed the gaze of Lord Eddard to him, he'd been forced to lie through his teeth, not wanting anyone to find out exactly what he had been doing in the stables.

Queen Cersei made a fuss the moment she saw his bruises. “Joffrey, what happened?”

He could see the amused slightly malevolent glance of the Greyjoy lad watching him with an intent eye. He stumbled over his words conscious of the threat that lay within.

“I tripped and fell down some stairs-” he said with some reluctance.

“Where?” Cersei and Lady Catelyn looked alarmed.

“-on the East tower.” he said hastily hoping he wouldn't be pressed for details.

“You might have been seriously hurt. Shall I summon Maester Luwin to heal your wounds? He is a marvel with herbs and bruises-”

“No, I don't want a fuss.” he snapped at Lady Catelyn who looked worried. And so she should do! It was her responsibility. If she had kept Greyjoy on bread and water, clapped in irons none of this would have ever happened!

Joffrey had gone to his chamber to nurse his wounds, when he found his mother already in the room.

“Mother, you startled me.”

She sat on his bed, unconcerned by his alarm. “We need to talk Joffrey. Shut the door please-” he knew that uncompromising tone when he heard. He was going to get no peace until he admitted the truth.

“Do you not think I know a lie when I hear one? What really happened?” her little silk clad foot tapped on the stone flooring. “I'm waiting, Joffrey.”

Joffrey pouted, remembering his humiliation as Theon had punched him, leaping to the defence of the girl. Their secret kisses in the stables when they thought they were alone. All his jealousy and hatred came spilling out.

“It's the Greyjoy boy.”

“Him? What did he do?”

Her question infuriated him. “Didn't you see him dancing the Tarantelle at the welcoming dinner and making a spectacle of himself? How he stared at her after my father announced the match like a love-struck pup?”

“He obviously has a crush on her. Ridiculous since he hasn't a hope.”

“She returns his affections-” he said bluntly.

“Are you sure?” she asked him shrewdly.

“I saw them in the stable kissing. He's mad for her, and she's all conflicted about her duty. But she certainly was not fighting him off.”

Her eyes gleamed with malicious delight. The opportunity to get one over on these sanctimonious Starks was too good to miss and as for it being their pretty little Lady Sansa that they were so inordinately proud of...well it was better and better!

“So who gave you the bruises?”

“He did.”

She was so astounded she stared at him in disbelief. “He did? He struck you?”

“I was in the stables taking the opportunity to chastise my lady-love when he barged in crazed as a wilding and punched me in the face. He shoved me to the floor and kicked me in the stomach. Look, I still have the bruises to prove it-” he lifted the hem of his rich tunic displaying a contusion which was turning an impressive mix of yellow blue and purple.

“It was an unprovoked attack?” Cersei said with undisguised eagerness. “We could have his head for this!”

Joffrey had the grace to look shifty. “Well, not completely unprovoked...”

“If she's giving her kisses to Greyjoy why should I not have a taste?”

“So why did you lie when Renly drew attention to it? That I don't understand?” she asked. "Theon could have earned a flogging at least?”

“Think mother-” Joffrey said with impatience. “I need irrefutable proof. They'll get careless and when they do...”

“We'll be there.”

“But will you still want her after she'd shamed herself with the Ironborn boy.”

Joffrey gave her a scornful smirk, enjoying his plan. “Of course I will! She is beautiful and if I don't have her as a wife, she'll make a perfectly acceptable mistress, will she not? Father has mistresses and doxies by the score, why shouldn't I?”

Cersei smiled at her favorite son. “I like the way you think. But let's keep it to ourselves, shall we?”

 

## Theon

He hadn't dared to say a word. What business did he have looking at a girl like her? None at all. He was here only on the sufferance of Ned Stark and his brand of mercy.

"What did he do to you?"

He slipped off his cloak and wrapped it round her. She gave him a grateful look. "He kept ranting and raving. Talking about how I was going to be his anyway. How can he have so little respect for me? How can I marry someone like that?"

"He's a prince."

She looked right at him. "So are you-" she said, in a small voice. 

That wasn't quite the same thing. There was a world of difference between them. 

 

Joffrey's father wasn't a failed rebel, ruler of a heap of barely fertile rocks in the harsh inhospitable ocean. He ruled the Seven Kingdoms instead. He couldn't offer a tenth of what Joffrey could, so why was she saying that and looking at him like he was her only hope of redemption?

Thank you-" she said.

"What for?"

"Thank you for saving me."

Theon tried and failed not to show how thrilled he was by her heartfelt simple thanks. “If he ever bothers you again go to one of your brothers. Robb would have had Joffrey's head for this!”

She looked at him appalled by what he'd just said. "I-I can't"

"Why not?"

"If I tell my brothers or my father what Joffrey's done wha1t he's capable of, they'll kick up a fuss."

"Maybe that's what's needed." If they knew the truth they wouldn't make Joffrey marry you, he wanted to say so badly but he held his tongue.

"No, you don't understand!" she looked at him with big distressed eyes. "If they realise what Joffrey did then they'd be forced to challenge him. There'd a be a huge scandal- and I would be ruined. Please Theon, I trust you to keep this between ourselves."

"There you go, trusting me again. You shouldn't, you know." he told her gruffly. He was warning her for her own good, but she had already made up her mind about him. She believed in him much more than he believed in himself and somehow that made him want to be a better man and earn her love.

"Why do you always say that?" she asked him.

"Because 'tis truth?"

She shook her head.

"You're too trusting Sansa."

Her eyes gleamed and she pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek. "Or perhaps I see you as you really are." she whispered softly in his ear.

## Sansa

Theon's annoyance bothered her like a stone in her boot. Why was he so vexed with her? She hadn't meant to get trapped with Joffrey, that he would play such a trick on her.

But afterwards when he realised how upset I was, how kind he was. He gave me his cloak. He defended me.

True, he hadn't done it in a chivalrous fashion punching Joffrey in the face and kicking him in the stomach, but he'd certainly been effective. 

I wish that I could marry him, that he could give me his cloak for real... to be his, Sansa Greyjoy, not Baratheon - never Joffrey's bride.

I need to be with him. I don't know if I can give him up and live without him.

How can I persuade him this is what I need?

“You wanted for nothing all your life. I have nothing except what your father deigns to give me. How can I marry you?” Theon asked as they met secretly in the godwood once more. “- not that I wouldn't...you know I would, in a heartbeat but...gods, I wish it wasn't so damned hard. Your father and mother will have none of me. You mother warned me off most fiercely.”

“Why?” Sansa asked.

His mouth turned up in a cynical curve. “She thinks I am a bad influence on you and Robb. Because of my blood-”

“Do you think I care about that?” she told him. “It's you that I want. It's always been you, from the beginning. Why can't they see that?”

So much for being practical, thought Theon willing himself not to get his hopes up at her words.

“I see now. I was dazzled by Joffrey and his princely good looks. But he doesn't care for me. I'm nothing but an object to him. But everyone expect me to meekly do my duty and marry him. I'm so torn-”

“And what about what you want? About Your happiness?”

“I can't afford to think that way. Not with everyone expecting me to do my duty-”

I might be nothing but a fool and I have little to offer you. But I care. I always have, and I always will. Oh Gods, if only they would let us be-” he told her, holding her close. “-you make me want to be a better man. A man who'd earn the right to be at your side.”

She rested her head against the fine wool of his doublet seeking comfort from his arms.

“I'll think of something I promise. What will become of us both, dearheart?-”

She looked up at him. “Dearheart?”

“Aye, for you are dear to my heart you know that.”

“You haven't called me that in years...” she smiled.

## Catelyn

Catelyn decided that she needed to have a word with her eldest daughter. She was concerned by what Septa Mordane had confided in her that morning. _We must nip this in the bud before anything more comes of it. Sansa cannot be allowed to shy at the prospect of an advantageous match. Not when so much is at stake-_

Sansa hovered at the door to her solar, looking pale and anxious. “Mother, you asked to see me?”

She smiled trying to set the girl at ease. “Yes, come in dear.”

Sansa entered the room and sat opposite her mother, gazing at her with big worried eyes. She licked her lower lip, worrying silently at what she could have done wrong. 

“Septa Mordane mentioned that you were worried about your upcoming match with the prince. Is that true?”

“I don't know if I can go through with it. If I can marry Joffrey.”

“Why, have you made an arrangement with someone else?”

Sansa blushed, but said nothing.

“I couldn't help but notice you and Theon are still rather close? You do spend quite a bit of time with one another. And there was that Tarantelle at the welcoming dinner- ”

She noticed how the girl froze, fidgeting in her seat and biting at her lip. A rather telling sign of guilt, Cat suspected.

“He's a friend. We have done nothing wrong, I promise. Theon has been a gentleman to me.”

Cat repressed a snort at the thought of it. “You're not ...fond of him are you?”

By the hectic flush on her face Cat had her suspicions confirmed. _So much for it just being ambition as Ned thought. Of course Greyjoy had been courting Sansa on the sly, plying her with sweet words. She had to nip this in the bud before it caused any more problems._

“Apart from the fact he has nothing to offer a girl like you.” Cat pointed out. “-he has no business courting, or making love to you. He should get that nonsense out of his head right now!”

“Nothing is going on between Theon and myself.” Sansa said stiffly. 

“Has he...Cat's voice trailed away delicately. “Has he ever taken liberties with you? Done anything that made you feel uncomfortable? I'm your mother. You can tell me in confidence.”

Sansa thought of their kisses, their intimate walks in the Godswood. His arms round her waist, dancing with him and sharing a tantalising taste of the physical intimacy she craved. _I wanted him to do everything we'd shared. He didn't force me._

“He's grown up to be a strikingly handsome man. I know the girls sigh over him. Girls like a rogue. But when the night falls and the dawn comes what does he have to offer you?”  
“You have a chance of rising very high by marriage. Joffrey and his parents are very keen for you to wed him. Out of all the high-born maidens in the Seven Kingdoms, He wants you.”

“But Mother...what if I don't want him?” she admitted.

Her mother looked at her sharply. “Sansa, is there something going on? Is there any reason why you are refusing a prince?”

Sansa didn't know what to say. How could she tell her mother what Joffrey had done? How she felt about Theon when she disapproved of him so severely?

“You've never been one to balk at your duty. Don't you see you wedding to the prince will benefit our family, our region? You will be the queen of seven kingdoms. Doesn't that mean anything to you?”  
Sansa just looked miserably at her hands, feeling more and more trapped by everyone's expectations.

“I know it's going to be a big change for you. I can understand you being scared of what's ahead and I won't pretend that life at court is going to be easy. But you mustn't stand in your own light. Let's have no more talk of not wanting to be wed.” she sighed, knowing the next bit would not be received well, but someone had to say something before it became an issue. “but there is one thing you must do, my girl”

“What is it?”

“Your friendship with Greyjoy has to end soon. It isn't appropriate.”

Sansa looked at her with appalled eyes. “Mother!”

“As a future queen you must be beyond reproach, as you are now. There must be no question-”

“I've done nothing wrong and neither has Theon. He-”

“Sansa, be sensible.” Cat cajoled her. “You are walking into a metaphorical Lion's den. You will have intrigues and enemies ready to snipe at you. You cannot have a weakness and he will be one of them. Cut him loose while you have time.”

“He's a friend-” Sansa cried out. “How can you ask me to turn my back on a friend?”

“Since he is just a friend as you claim, he will understand. Do it soon Sansa, it will hurt less. He'll find another girl to latch onto; he's handsome and has swagger, they all like that. But he'll destroy you if you let him.”

## Theon

"You want us to run away together?" he asked, when she broached the subject to him. "When you're still promised to Joffrey Baratheon?"

"Yes."

She couldn't be serious. Did she have the slightest idea what she was asking of him? Lord Eddard was a decent honourable man, but if he had the merest inkling of his secret relationship he would have his hide, and Theon knew he would deserve every moment of his punishment.  
Robb was his best friend here, the only one who actively enjoyed his company and believed the best in him, no matter how he behaved. And this was how he was going to repay him? Stealing away his beloved sister?

It was selfish and it was wrong, and if he were sensible he would walk away from her. But Gods help him, he was weak and he wanted her. Wanted her so desperately he was considering doing something incredibly rash.

"Has something happened between you and he since? Something I need to know about?"

"He wrote to me again." 

Theon's grip on her shoulders tightened on hearing that. He thought he'd made it perfectly clear to the royal brat what would happen if he persisted in bothering Sansa ever again.

"What did he say?"

She flinched at the harshness of his voice. He stroked down the sleek length of her back to soothe her.

“Hush, sweetling, I'm not angry at you.” he murmured soothingly. “I just hate the thought of him daring to try it after what he did to you.”

"Here, read it." she took the letter from her bodice and handed it to him. "I have no secrets from you."

Theon's lip curled as he read Joffrey's arrogant scrawl.

 

"I don't know how he dares-" Theon muttered underneath his breath. He crushed the paper in his hands, wishing he had his hands firmly round Joffrey's neck instead. "Arrogant little shite. He still wants to marry you? Despite what he did?"

She nodded. "The king and my father think it a marvellous idea. A link between both our houses, to echo their friendship."

"They're sensible. He would be a good match for you." He observed, reading the crumpled paper with a frown on his face.

"Is that what you believe?" she asked him, her voice rising in her distress. "You want me to meekly go back to Joffrey as if nothing ever happened?"

“You're the one who said you had to be practical. Think of your future.”

"Tell me you don't care for me." She said, looking him straight in the eyes as she said it. "Say it, Theon."

This was the moment he should be sensible and let her down gently but he found he couldn't- overwhelmed by the strength in her personality. He was a selfish bastard and gods help him he wanted her too much. "You know that I can't. Sansa, don't do this."

"I don't want him. The only person I want is you-"

Such sincerity in her voice. She was so sure of her love, of them. He wished he could be so sure.

"But where would we go? We can't return back home to the Iron Isles." He hadn't been back there for so long he no longer dreamed of the sound of the waves crashing on the shores, the taste of the salt air on the lips. 

 

Deep down he wasn't sure that his father would welcome them with open arms. Would he be furious with him for breaking the terms of the treaty and taking his enemy's daughter as a bride? Or would he praise him for stealing away Lord Eddard's treasure?

"I don't care. I don't care about where we go as along as I am far from here. Far from Joffrey. With you-" she wound her arms round him, melding her body to his. "I need you Theon, as I have never needed you before. Please-"

He was weak; he was nothing but a fool and he didn't care. How was any red-blooded man meant to resist that? 

When she asked him like that, and kissed him so sweetly how could he refuse? He only hoped that they both wouldn't live to regret it.


	4. Temptation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theon and Sansa take a drastic step, leading to a deepening in their relationship and a life changing decision. Meanwhile reality starts to crash in on love's young dream ...Can our couple stay strong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating is shooting up for sexual content, so it's adults only...bye kids!

## Sansa

Sansa tied the bundle to her back and slipped on her cloak, making sure to cover her distinctive hair. She'd suggested buying some dye once they were on the road. She had a few trinkets she could pawn for funds until they could reach the coast and hire passage on a ship far from here. 

She was serious about running away before Joffrey could return for her and claim her as his bride. She had tried to tell her father she no longer wanted Joffrey, that the very thought of them being together was enough to make her sick. But he wouldn't listen, neither him or mother, telling her that she would learn to accept her duty, that things would change once she was married to the prince. 

She wanted to be able to tell the truth about what had happened but would any of them believe her? It was her word against Joffrey and no one would be as foolhardy as to accuse a prince of dishonour. I don't have a choice. I cannot marry Joffrey, I just can't!

It was the dead of night. Sansa tiptoed down the stairs trying not to make a sound and be discovered.  
She stopped dead. Arya was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs, a candle in hand.

"What are you doing there? You gave me a fright, hiding in the shadows like that." Sansa's voice was shrill with nerves. 

I have to get a hold of myself. She's going to get suspicious if she thinks I'm acting strange. I can't fail now. Theon is relying on me. He's putting his neck out on the line so we can be together, how much more can I do to prove my love and loyalty.

Arya had that provoking look on her face that Sansa knew meant trouble. She started to back away, knowing that Theon was waiting for her in the stable.

This damned delay! thought Sansa in irritation at her provoking sister. Why did Arya have to turn up now of all times?

"Bit late to be wondering round fully dressed?" she raised an eyebrow at Sansa's cloak.

Sansa flushed, cursing her fair skin.

"Why are you acting so oddly? I've been watching you for days. Weeks, even-"

"You've got the wrong idea completely, Arya. I haven't a clue what you're-" she started to say, but one fierce and disbelieving glare from her sister shut her up, her voice trailing away ineffectually.

"If I didn't know better I would say that you were about to do a flit, that wouldn't be the case would it?"

She tried to conceal the flash of panic in her eyes but it was too late. Arya had already seen it, and come to the right damning conclusion.

"You're running away?" said Arya in an utterly incredulous voice. It took a lot to shock her bold impulsive sister but it seemed that Sansa had just managed it.

"I can't marry Joffrey, I can't. You have to understand." Sansa wrung her hands. "Father and mother won't listen. They think it a great honour for me to marry the prince to be close to the throne, and I thought that was what I wanted. But then-"

"Did something happen?"

Sansa averted her eyes and didn't answer.

"It is a great honour, that's what you and every one else kept telling me. You never objected before. What's happened to change your mind?" Arya eyed her warily as if she didn't know her any more.

Sansa wished she could confide in her sister, tell her the whole sordid tale but she could not. "I wish I could make you understand, but I can't. Please Arya-"

"You'll be breaking mother and father's hearts, you know that. Is he worth it?" her sister remarked

A thousand times yes- thought Sansa but she said nothing.

“I wonder who it is. I doubt you'd ever lower yourself to have a romance with a servant, and I doubt any of them would take such a risk... so who could your lover be?”

Sansa wanted to get out of there before her perceptive sister worked it out and decided to spill all she knew. The last things he wanted was for her to know all about her feelings for Theon.

“Please Arya, all I'm asking is the night. You can alert them in the morning that I'm gone and I'll not begrudge you that. But just give us the night.”

Arya didn't look impressed but by the slackening in tension in her shoulders Sansa knew that she had got through to her and gained her sympathies. “I must be mad, but-”

Sansa hugged her, taking Arya completely by surprise. 

“Thank you. You've no idea what this means to me.”

\-----

Sansa made her way out to the meeting place. She slipped into the stables hoping none of the servants saw her late at night. After her close run shave with Arya she didn't want to risk it again. This was so nerve-wracking! She wondered whether Theon was feeling the same trepidation as she was. _I doubt it. He's so much bolder and braver than I._ she thought.

“Theon?” she whispered, keen not to be over-heard. 

He slipped out of the shadows. Cloaked with a scarf tied over his feature to obscure them. Sansa wished she had thought of that, her red-gold hair and blue eyes were highly distinctive, especially in this neighbourhood where everyone knew her and her family.

“Are you ready?” he asked in an urgent undertone.

She nodded, stepping into his arms for a brief embrace.

He lifted her up onto the horse, hoping they would be able to get away before they were discovered by one of the stable-lads.  
She felt a thrill at his hands around her waist.

"Can you ride astride? I won't be able to get your side-saddle.” he asked her. “I don't know if we should risk another animal.”

She couldn't believe this was really happening. They were going to flee Winterfell the home both of them had known since childhood. They were going into exile for love. “Yes, yes.”

## Theon

Their bodies were pressed together as they rode pillion, his arms wound round her waist.

They slipped through the gate which was unmanned. Theon thanked his luck. There might have been some awkward questions if anyone recognised and realised the identity of the female he was with. They need to put as much space between them and Winterfell. Lord Stark's territories were large and his bannermen were mostly loyal to him. They would have to do this alone. If our luck is with us we might get all the way to a port and find a boat for the Isles.  
He didn't know how his father would take his defection from their enemy. Would he be furious and send them straight back? Or would he wink at it and tell them to stay?

It was cold and damp but they'd travelled for a long time and the dawn was just about to arrive. They done as much as they could to put as much distance between them and Winterfell. Theon only hoped that it would be enough. 

"We're going to have to take cover. We can't travel too far by daylight, it's too risky." he told her. Even he was starting to get tired. They needed to rest and they would have to find some supplies and soon. That bundle she'd managed to purloin from the kitchens at Winterfell would not last until they could reach the shore.

She accepted his judgement, too tired to argue. "When we get to the Isles, what do you think will happen? Will they dislike me because of who I am?” Sansa asked. He could sense she was very worried about it.

“I don't know-” he said. She deserved honesty from him at least. “My father is a difficult man, I cannot lie to you. But my mother's people, the Harlaws, they will welcome us back, help us make a new life for ourselves. You have no need to fear.”

“Oh, good-” She sounded tired, her head resting against his shoulder.

Sansa had such trust in him and he found that he didn't want to let her down. Not with both of their futures at stake, after they had risked so much.

“Not far my love. Hold on. We'll be safe soon, I promise.” he said softly.

\-----

 

It was getting dark. Theon couldn't believe that they had evaded capture for so long. He had expected to be apprehended but perhaps crossing the White Knife had managed to put them off their trail for a bit. The dogs were probably struggling to catch their scent and he'd doubled back into the forest.

His forest lore was not bad, but he was very conscious that Lord Eddard and Robb's would be better. They have to get away from the area as soon as possible, make up for lost ground.  
But tonight at least, tonight they must rest and as he looked round and marked his surroundings he knew exactly where he was going to take her. It was no palace; just a humble hunter's cavern with some old furs and space for a fire to keep warm at night, but it was their best chance of shelter.

“Are you cold, Sansa?” He asked her as he tried to locate the cave entrance. He sighed in relief as he found the marking on the tree-bark to indicate where it was.

She nodded, absolutely exhausted by their flight. She hadn't complained much either despite the fact she must have been sore from all those hours in the saddle riding astride no less. Sansa was made of sterner stuff than he'd thought.

“There's a cave somewhere here, we'll find it and take shelter for the night. I feel like I'm about ready to drop. You've done well, lass.”

“Have I?” Sansa beamed at him. 

“Aye, that you have. As a true lady of the Isles should.” she nuzzled her head against his chest.

“Am I your lady now?”

His arms tightened round her as he smiled, relieved to still be free and having evaded their pursuers for one night. “Yes dearheart, now and forever.”

They huddled together in the firelight, sharing warmth as the night fell. She was shivering in the cool of the cave but his strong arms around her made her feel safe. She buried her face in his tunic.

He was stroking her hair, murmuring comforting nonsense against her skin. She had never seen him so tender with anyone else. Only her.

“Oh dearheart, what am I going to do with you?” he sighed.

“D'ye think we'll be able to get away? My father's forces are probably searching for us right now. He'll call his bannermen out.” She fretted.

“I don't know. I hope not.” the last thing they needed was to have the countryside searching for them. It was going to be hard enough to get to a decent port and get passage back home. He wasn't a devout man – gods knew he wasn't- but he sent up a silent prayer anyway for her sake.

_Let us at least get to the Isles, that's all I ask. Let us get away safely.  
_

 

They lay underneath their shared cloaks, sharing their body-heat in the night time.  
“Are you not going to kiss me goodnight?” she asked. His hands were cupping her face even before she had finished speaking  
She got the feeling of his emotion kept firmly in check.  
Before she had sometimes wondered whether she felt more strongly than him, that this wasn't some amorous game to him. That was before he had exposed his own vulnerabilities to her after the announcement of the betrothal to Joffrey. He felt deep about her, she knew it.

She was lying underneath him, matching the rhythm of his rocking hips as they kissed ever deeper. She felt like she was losing her mind, reduced to gasps of pleasure and groans.  
“Please, Oh Gods...yes.”  
"What's the matter, Theon? Why did you push me away?" Sansa asked him in all innocence.

 

Theon lay on his back, hands clenched into fists so he wouldn't reach out for her and pull her close. 

_have got to be in control. Bad things will happen if I don't. He'd never been so damned tempted in all his life. So soft sweet and willing underneath him._

_A man would sell his soul and count it a bargain to spend one night with her. If her kisses were enough to arouse him to folly; how much more her youthful body and the magic of her touch?_

_I can't do this, I must not do this,_ he told himself knowing it was futile to struggle with his own base nature which was fighting to assert itself. 

_A few sweet kisses and fine words; that's one thing and Lord Ned and Lady Catelyn disapproved of that as if was. But anything more... they would have his hide, both of them, and he would deserve nothing more. For her own good, I have to hold back..._

"If I touch you...oh gods if I touch you all will be lost.”

“Maybe I want you to touch me.” She said softly into his ear, cupping him and giving him an affectionate squeeze which made him gasp.

He nearly groaned aloud. She was going to be the death of him, if he did not take care. 

“When I was with Joffrey, I felt nothing but revulsion. He made my skin crawl,” she shuddered at the thought of allowing the crown prince to touch her. “- but you, my lord. I want you to touch me. I think I always did.”

“Sansa, we can't do this." he protested, even though he didn't even sound convincing to himself. He wanted her so much, the last of his scruples were melting away in the face of his desire for her.

She held his gaze. “I need you, you know that I need you. Why fight it?”

As they kissed in the dim firelight of the cave, embracing closely the last threads of his resistance started to melt away, and he knew he was about to give in.  
She was an addiction he could no longer live without. 

This was every dream, every fantasy about her come true. He almost couldn't believe it was real and expected he would wake in a moment back in his bed at Winterfell, hard, aching and longing for her. 

_Please Gods, don't let this be a dream..._ he asked the gods fervently.

## Sansa

She unlaced the front of her dress, pulling off her chemise. She shivered a little from the coolness of the night air and from fear. She knew he wouldn't hurt her, he would be as tender with her as Joffrey was not, but she couldn't help but tremble. 

Does he like me, what he sees? Am I being far too forward?, she thought. She knew that he'd had other women, that he'd had far more experience than she'd had.

The gasp of sheer admiration from him reassured her immensely. He looked at her bared curves with some kind of awe, like she was the Maiden incarnate.

“It's alright sweetling. There's no need to be afraid-”

“May-may I see you too?” she said, dipping her head shyly. He pulled off his shirt leaving him as bare as she was.

Her fingers traced over his skin, skimming over the lithe muscles of his bared chest in innocent curiosity. She liked the feel of his sleek lithe muscles under her palm, stroking them over and over again. “Let me see you, let me touch you too.”

“Do you like it when I touch you?” she asked. He had to suppress a groan. He liked it only too well. He nodded.

He leaned forwards, hungrily tasting the sweetness of her lips. His fingertips tracing tender paths on her slowly bared skin.

“Open for me, sweetheart.” he urged her.

“What- what are you planning to do?” she asked dazed by the touch of his lips on her flesh. She blushed.

Her septa and her mother would have been horrified to see what she was doing with Theon. That sort of thing you should not be even thinking about outside the marital bed, and even then...  
She couldn't even imagine doing this with Joffrey. Lying before him naked and exposed to his admiring gaze. Letting him kiss and touch her. Bring her pleasure she never even thought to dream about.

He kissed the soft inside of her thigh soothing the soreness from her long ride. She sighed in longing, begging and pleading for something more, something unknown. She wanted all the pleasure that he could give her.

“Please-” she sighed breathlessly “Theon, I need it. I need you.”

_How can this be a sin if I want it as much as he does? If he loves me, as I love him?_

“Gods, how beautiful you are-” he murmured into the soft flesh of her thigh which he was teasing with soft kisses and trails of his tongue.

Her hips moved back and forth on the furs, encouraging him to give her what she craved. “No more teasing. Please-”

He looked up from tracing his tongue round her navel, making her squirm with anticipation. She felt as if she were about to explode.  
“Are you ready, sweetling?” he asked her. She nodded hastily so eager and responsive to him.

His mouth moved downwards, teasing soft kisses on the crease between hip and thigh and the delectable inside of her thighs, everywhere except where she desperately wantonly wanted his mouth.

“Theon, my Theon, don't make me wait. I need you-” she gasped. Her hand slid into his hair keeping him where she most wanted him.

At last she felt his tongue move slickly against her most secret flesh, kissing and licking her intimately. She gasped, arching up off the furs. How he teased her and made her yearn for his touch, his clever mouth moving over her in some kind of profane worship.

She could barely even think in proper sentences any more. Everything had narrowed down to this narrow bed covered in furs, his mouth on her encouraging her to new heights of pleasure.

There was no way they were going to be able to go back to meek chaste kisses, not once she'd tasted bliss in his arms. "Oh-" she breathed, her eyes wide with awe. Her eyes closed briefly , still revelling in the intensity of the feeling he'd given given. It was as if she had been blind until he had awoken her. 

"Sansa, did you...are you?" his eyes were dark and brilliant with mixture of pride and tenderness. She felt a burst of love for him, deeper and more powerful than ever before. he bent to kiss her and she responded, craving the taste of what must be herself on his mouth, salty yet tart with a sweet aftertaste she craved. She kissed him deeply, craving more. 

_I had no idea of how it could be between us,_ she thought, dazed by their love-making. She nodded. 

_How could she have ever thought that she could have lived without him?_

The next morning Theon woke as the birds started to sing and lay awake stroking Sansa's fire-bright hair. She was still slumbering deeply, tired out by their strenuous journey last night and their first forays into love-play, face buried into his naked shoulder and chest.  
 _This is how it was meant to be. Her by my side. He ran a hand down her back, moving slowly down the sinuous curve of her spine. She felt so right under his hand like his familiar bow he'd had to leave behind._

_I would do anything to make her mine. He had been thinking about their night of passion and just how hard it was going to be to keep their hands off each other now that they'd discovered bliss in each other's arms. Already he wanted more to explore everything with her, but he knew they had to go slowly._

_I'm going to have to make her an honest woman before we get to the Isles. But what if she doesn't want to marry me? He knew he was being a fool. How much more did she have to do to prove how much she loved him. She'd walked away from marriage to a prince. Run away from the arms of her family, risked disgrace and worse to be with him. Ask her. Ask her tonight if she will be my wife._


	5. Seagard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa and Theon take an irrevocable step and face disappointment. Meanwhile Ser Jason and Lord Stark are on their trail with the aid of a landlord who knows which side his bread's buttered on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have started a Sansa/Theon comm on Livejournal called stormandspring. check it out if you're interested it would be great to have more shippers and fic there

Theon knew that he had to talk to her about what had happened that night. Their relationship had gone to another level after the events of the night before and he wanted to make sure that she had no regrets in being with him. _We’re not that far from Winterfell really, if she regrets what we have done, there’s no harm done really - no one needs to ever know what we did in that cavern… I could try and steal another horse and send her back on our horse. She might even return by the time Lord Eddard and Lady Catelyn arrive back from White Harbour._

Even as he told himself this, he knew that he was doing a poor job of convincing himself that he could let her go. He was mad with love for her, crazy enough to risk everything to be by her side. Even though they hadn’t strictly made love properly yet, the little they had done had not alleviated his desire for her remotely, merely made it burn fiercer. Gods, the mere thought of her moans and sighs as he lavished kisses on her most secret flesh, tasting her had him hardening again, already wanting more.

He knew himself, and how little will-power he would have to resist her charms. There was no way he was going to be able to keep his hands off her for long enough for both of them to get to the Iron Isles and have them wed there. They would have to do it as soon as they got to the nearest town or port.

 

“Sansa, dearest-“ he asked as they cantered past towns and villages, always keeping their hoods up and trying to attract as little notice as possible . There was always the chance that some stray person would recognise either of them and raise the alarm.

“Yes, Theon?”

“We'll stretch our limbs for a bit while we stop. I have something I want to ask you.”

The news she was going to take a break from horse-riding came as a welcome relief, but she was rather scared at how serious he was for a change. She glanced at him unsurely as if saying to herself, Is he having second thought after what we did in the cave? He wanted to reassure her, but he didn't know what to think. _Will she accept me? I know she loves me, but this is a huge step and we'd be defying her parents the king and the whole world. Would she be able to do that and stay strong?_

They stopped at a deserted barn, not keen to be caught trespassing by someone who might report them to her father. She opened the pack of provisions and divided out the little that they had.

“We're going to have to get more supplies, Theon. We're running low.” she told him with a worried look in her eyes.

“We don't have much in the way of funds but I'll see what I can do. We have to be careful. We don't know who we can trust and we're still in your father's territories.”

“Is everything...I mean...after last night...” she trailed to a stop blushing furiously.

He realised she had probably been fretting about it for the morning. He should have reassured her straight away.

“Do you think badly of me?” she said in a small, vulnerable voice. “-for giving myself to you?”

She looked so scared and unhappy, he knew what he had to do. “C'mere lass.” he told her wrapping his arms round her. “Look at me-”

She looked at him with worried eyes. He wanted to smooth that uncertainty from her face. How to ask her for what he wanted- her hand in marriage. Take the plunge. Be brave, she needs you now!

“You know that I love you, don't you dearheart?” 

He felt her nod into the comforting wool of his doublet rather than seeing it.

“What we did together, it changes things. Changes things a lot.”

She gulped down a sob, trying to hide her distress. “So, does that mean you don't want me now? Now that you got what you wanted?”

“No!” he protested. “Sansa do you really think so little of my affections for you? Gods, I want you so much, I want-”

“What do you want?”

_Now or never. Tell her how you feel, Greyjoy! How hard can it be to ask a lass to marry you? ___

“I want to marry you. Give you my cloak for real.”

She pulled back from him a little, with a stunned look on her face. “Marriage?”

“I- I know I'm not much of a match, compared to Joffrey. He's a prince and I- well I cannot lie to you, Sansa. My people are pirates, rebels. We are despised by all right-thinking men. Men like your father and the king. Lord Eddard is a good man, but even he would not countenance me courting you. He rejected me out of hand-”

“I know you're not like that, Theon. Why are you saying these things?”

Gods, her faith in him humbled him completely. _What had he ever done to deserve this woman at his side?_ “You have to know what you're walking into. What you could be giving up.”

“I thought you wanted me to marry you?” she observed.

"I do! You know I do, but-"

“You know what this situation with Joffrey has taught me?”

He turned to her, but she seemed as sincere as ever. “What?”

“I cannot be with anyone but you." she said simply. "Do you understand, Theon? You are mine as I am yours and I would risk everything and anything to be yours.” she moved into his arms, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “Marry me, Theon.”

He drew back, looking faintly amused. “I thought I was proposing to you?”

Love made her bold. She looked up at him, a gleam of triumph in her eyes.“This is me saying 'yes'”

## Seagard

“We'll have to avoid Ser Mallister's men. He's a bannerman of Father's and he's been to Winterfell before. He'll likely recognise me, and he might recognise you as well.” Sansa said, anxious not to be caught. “I hope we don't have to stay here long.”  
To be honest, so did he. But this was one of the busiest ports serving Ironman’s Bay and they were most likely to find a ship to carry them back to his home. It was a risk, but what could they do?

He knew what she was hoping so desperately for the same thought dominated his mind. _I hope we can find a ship to take us to the Isles._

All their hopes were pinned on finding a passage to his home. The danger was nowhere near passed yet.

They went into the more disreputable part of town, searching for a sept. Some little backwater place where they were much more unlikely to ask questions about an errant bride and groom without witnesses, family – or indeed permission to wed.

Sansa pulled her cloak close and huddled closer to Theon. They passed a bevy of drunken sailors who eyed Sansa with interest. Even cloaked and hooded, she was a striking figure - tall slender and fair of face underneath her cloak.

One drink befuddled sailor coming out of a tavern on the docks accosted them with a lascivious gleam in his eyes. Sansa shrank closer to Theon who's hand strayed towards his weapon.

“Cor! She's a prime bit o' rump, ain't she?”

“Come back wi' me, lass. I'll show thee a better time than yon pretty boy 'ere-” he slurred.

Theon glared at the sailor as if daring him to come any closer. She could see just how on the edge he was and how easy it would be for him to lose his temper with this disrespectful man.

“Do you mind? That's my wife you're talking about, thank you.” Theon said in his coldest most princely tone. And if his statement was not quite strictly true yet, who was going to know?

“No need to take offence, mate, I'm happy to share.” the sailor grumbled, eyeing both of them appreciatively. “-and yer ain't so bad-looking yerself. We could share her, eh? Might be entertaining enough. I can be flexible after a couple of months at sea.”

Theon 's hand went to his hilt as he gave the lustful sailor a hard stare. He bristled with indignation and outrage at his proposal. "I won't tell you again. Stay away from us!"

Sansa was afraid they were going to be diverted from their purpose and embroiled in a fight with rough men in a strange town. She pulled him away from the conflict, seeking to soothe her husband before he lost his temper completely and battered the man. "Peace, my love. They know not what they say. Come now -" 

The couple were both relieved to find a sept down an alleyway. It was a run-down place with broken stained glass windows and a dented door, but it would suffice.

The septon stared at the couple with bleary eyes. Sansa suspected that was drink she could smell wafting from him in acrid waves. It made her feel a little bit sick to be honest but they couldn't be choosers. They needed to find a priest who would wed them with no objections and no questions asked.

“So will you do it? Marry us as soon as possible?” Theon urged as soon as the priest had reluctantly admitted them both in. “It has to be today!”

The septon rubbed his rheumy eyes, bleary with drink and lack of sleep. Bother these young people, waking him up demanding services, he was thinking, as clear as day.

“Please ser, if it is a question of money, we have some.” Sansa urged, trying to keep him on side.

“Why are you all in such a hurry?” the septon grumbled, evidently hungover to the gills. He looked down noticing their linked hands.

“Oh...” the septon's face fell in disapproval. “-please tell me that you two haven't done anything stupid.”

Her furious blush and Theon's awkward demeanour told him everything he needed to know.

“You know that carnal knowledge before marriage is a terrible sin?” he turned towards Theon. “Did you seduce this girl?”

Theon took the priest's rebuke. “I want to do right by her. Please, I'm asking you to have mercy on us. Marry us today.”

“Have you a cloak for this girl?”

He nodded. “Yes, I have.”

The priest wasn't quite finished, though. “I'm going to need real names.”

The couple looked at each other in consternation. They hadn't thought about this.

“If I marry you both under false names then it won't be legal.” The septon insisted, “-and both your mortal souls would be in great peril.”

Sansa and Theon looked at each other, weighing up the risks. It was perilous; if he balked after hearing their true names... But they had no choice. They had to be wed, as soon as possible!

“I am Sansa Stark.”

“-and I am Theon Greyjoy. Please wed us, father-”

The septon recoiled in shock. “D'ye know what you are asking of me? Your father will kill me, milady! Both of your fathers will kill me! Oh this is bad.” he moaned in horror.

Theon was frantic and losing patience with the septon's scruples. “Once 'tis done there' nothing that they can do about it.”

“Please father, we **must** be wed. I cannot live without him and my family will make me marry someone I cannot bear if we aren't wed.”

The septon sighed ground down by her pleading and Theon's insistence. “Very well-” he said, much against his better judgement.“Theon Greyjoy, Do you take this girl, Sansa Stark to be your lawful wedded wife?” the septon intoned. “Care for her and protect her, with your sword if necessary, as long as you both shall live?”

Theon nodded as they knelt before the humble altar. “Yes, I do.”

“And you Sansa dear do you take this man, Theon to be your lawful husband? In sickness and in health, in wealth or poverty. Till death do you part?”

She smiled at him, sure of her love. “Yes I do, with gladness-”

The septon sighed, unable to dissuade them from their chosen course of action. “-then by the power invested in me by the Seven, I pronounce you married in the sight of the Gods.Now say it after me, milady-"

“With this kiss I pledge my love.” they both echoed.

Sansa repeated the vow, her heart swelling. This was all she had ever wanted even if it wasn't the lavish joyful ceremony her girlish daydreams had depicted. She was with Theon, wearing his cloak, handfast and happy and at last she was his.

“With this kiss I pledge my love.” Theon said pressing a loving kiss to her cheek. It was done. At last they were finally wed.

“Then by the power invested in me, I pronounce you man and wife. Cursed be the man who tries to pull you asunder.” he shook his head in sadness. “I wish you both luck, for you'll need it.”

They went back to their humble tavern for the night happy that they had managed to convince the septon to marry them with few questions asked. With the press of some silver into his hands, he even not questioned too hard about their names, which was a stroke of luck. Sansa had fretted that he might betray them if questioned by her father's forces but Theon was surprisingly sanguine about the possibility.

“Gods, we paid him enough money, if he's going to betray us now, let him.”

They sat in an alcove at their inn, sharing a bottle of wine and a meal. She was nervous with anticipation and fear, aware of what would come next. Sansa picked at her food, too excited to sit still. _Tonight, it's going to happen tonight!_

“You should eat, dearheart. You'll need your strength.”

The implication and the frankly heated glance he shot her, left her blushing. They were going to do this.

She stood up, eyes bright with excitement. “Shall we?”

His mouth turned up at the corner with affection and more than a little healthy lust. The hunger in his darkened gaze made her tremble with anticipation.

“I'll settle up.” he said.

This was probably not the wedding night Sansa had dreamt of. A hole in the wall ceremony, cloaked and hooded in case anyone realised their identities and betrayed them to Lord Eddard and his bannermen. A dissolute drunken septon and a humble wedding breakfast in a run down inn. A wedding bed stuffed with old hay and old rushes on the floor. Yet this was all she wanted. 

“I don't want to hurt you, sweetling.” he said lowering her down to the bed and kissing her thoroughly. Her arms went up round his neck to draw him closer. The sweet slide of his tongue in her mouth, intimately suggesting new pleasures, the now familiar comforting weight of his body on hers was making her lose her mind.

“You won't... I can take it, I'm brave enough I promise.” she said between dizzying kisses. Her eyes were dark with arousal, the blue almost disappeared behind her dilated pupils.

“Do you know what you ask? Sansa this is no game, once we do this there is no turning back.”

“I want..” she told him in between sweet kisses. ”...to be yours, Theon. In every way possible. Don't deny me-”

He kissed her body with a reverence he'd never had for anything else, pressing adoring kisses to her soft pale flesh, lingering at her collarbone and the hollow of her throat.

Her back arched, eager for more of his caresses and touches. She gasped as he took one hardened nipple in his mouth and sucked gently on it. Her hand slipped around his head, encouraging him to linger.

“Say that me you love me.” he gasped, low and inviting in her ear as he ran his tongue down the slender path of her throat ending with a sweet kiss to the warm inviting hollow of her throat.

“I love you, I love you so much, please-” she breathed, driven out of her mind by the contact of skin against skin.

“Tell me if it hurts. I don't want to cause you pain, my sweet-” she could feel him at her entrance, the hot length of him at her soft thigh. His hips moved gently back and forth, accustoming her to his lance, making her want him inside her even more.

"Do it my love, don't spare me-" she groaned, opening up for him as with one thrust he was lodged inside her.

He groaned brokenly. "Gods, it's like heaven. So sweet and smug around me...Oh Sansa, are you?-"

“I'm fine-” she gasped, breathless with the shock of the short sharp pain. Gods, he was so close, so intimate. They'd never been so close. Sansa found that she liked it, him being inside her, almost a part of her. She liked it a great deal. “Just...just stay still a bit. So I can get used to it.” 

He pressed adoring kisses to her flushed face. “So brave...I'm sorry for the pain. It'll get better, I promise-” he breathed, holding still with a great effort.

"I-I think you can move now." She told him, wrapping one long leg round him to pull him closer. "-just be gentle with me." He smiled down at her tenderly, thrusts building in rhythm and intensity 

“Move with me. Just like when we dance...” he punctuated his words with a roll of his hips which made her gasp and cling onto his broad shoulders.

“Good?”

She looked up at him. “Yes, do it again. Don't stop-”

She needed his cock thrusting and surging inside her, she needed his clever fingers between them, rubbing and pressing her nub, bringing her even more pleasure, she needed his voice in her ears whispering ardent words of love and devotion.

Sansa lay back on the cover dazed by the intensity of what she had just experienced with Theon. “-now I understand why they call it 'making love'

####  A month and a half later...

Finding a passage from Seagard did not prove as easy as the couple had first thought. While they waited they searched for work and tried to make the best of things. At least, the love and passion they indulged in every night made up for the crushing disappointment that they were so close to the Isles and yet so far...

“How much?” Theon said in disbelief as the captain quoted him a price for passage to the Isles. Surely he had to be japing!  
“Twenty silver stags. Each!” the older man said firmly.

“You couldn't knock a bit off the price? I'm prepared to work my way across.” he could hear the pleading in his voice and it never did to sound too desperate, but damn it he was desperate. They needed to get across Ironman's Bay and get to his father's lands as soon as they could. It was vital they were able to leave the Stark territories as soon as possible. This delay was torture-

“That's the best price you're going to get for a trip to the Isles at this time of the year.” the captain was unbending.

“There's nothing you can do?”

“Nothing. I'm sorry lad, but a voyage to the Isles 'tis no mean undertaking. They're a fierce bunch there and this time of year the seas are rough and perilous. Whirlpools and waves fierce enough to sink an unwary ship-”

“Damn!” Theon cursed under his breath, seeing his dream of getting to the Isles unimpeded disappearing by the second.

“Why're you two so frantic to get there anyways? The captain looking at him with interest.

The last thing Theon wanted to do was to bring attention to himself and Sansa. Not when they were still under the nose of the Mallisters, who had little love for his kind, and were incredibly loyal to Lord Eddard and the Stark family.

There was no way that they had enough silver to make the journey. Theon privately cursed the extortionate sum they'd pressed into the septon's greasy palm in order to get him to marry them and shut his mouth. 

They might be able to earn their way across, but it would take time which was something they didn't have. Not in this town under the eye of the Mallisters and Lord Ned's men on their trail. Sansa would be so disappointed and they were in danger every moment they remained on mainland soil. 

“What did they say?” she asked as soon as he reached their humble room in the inn. She was trying to hide it for his sake, but she was as anxious as he was.

He hated to crush her hopes but he didn't have a choice.

"Nothing. No one will take us across to the Isles for less than twenty stags. Each-” he slumped on the bed despondently.

She stared at him with appalled eyes. “That's extortionate! Twenty stags! We haven't got twenty stags, we've barely got eighteen!”

He closed his eyes feeling her disappointment like a brand. 

“I know. Oh gods, what a mess. We'll either have to earn it or stowaway and if we're caught stowing-” they'd be dragged off the ship. Perhaps they might even be thrown overboard, depending on the mercy of the captain in question.

"You must not lose hope, Theon. I will stay with you through storm and spring. I gave myself to you, remember?" she said trying hard to console him despite her own bitter disappointment.

"You did, sweetling, that you did. You have no regrets?" he wouldn’t blame her if she did.

"No! Theon, we're together and I am far from Joffrey, that's what matters isn't it?"

“I stole you from your family. I ruined your reputation. How can you not despise me?”

She shook her head, holding him close. “I asked you to take me away from Joffrey. I begged you. Please Theon, do not blame yourself.”

“Come to bed, Theon.” she cajoled him, sensing his disappointment and sense of failure. “Don't fret about what we cannot change right now. Come to me, my love.”  
He settled into her welcoming arms, letting her cradle him. 

"Gods, I need you now-"

She heard the anguish in his voice and wordlessly let him sink into the welcoming depths of her body. Not making love just yet, just taking comfort from one another.

“I've failed you-” he said into the flaming mass of her soft hair. “I put my cloak around you and promised to defend you with sword and bow, and yet at the first sign of trouble I've failed you.”

She stroked his hair gently soothing his troubled mind. She was the one giving comfort now in their moment of crisis. “No you haven't. You've done everything I asked of you. You saved me, and you married me. How can you think you've failed me?” 

“You always believe the best of me darling. Why?” he asked her.

Sansa gave him a gentle loving smile and a kiss stroking his dark shaggy hair away from his face. 

“There's love in you, though you try hard to hide it from everyone else, but not from me. All you need is someone to have faith in you and your own will will do the rest.”

“I don't know what I ever did to deserve someone like you.” he sighed.

The landlord of the Trout and Boots couldn't help but be intrigued by his latest newly-wed couple to enter their doors. Their accents were more cultured and high-born than the young couple. The landlord wondered who they really were and what they were doing in his humble inn, pretending to be a humble couple.

There was something faintly Iron-born in the lad's vowels. The sing-songiness of his intonation slipped through occasion, though he seemed well-spoken enough. No common sailor, this one.

He looked again at him as the couple sat at a booth eating an evening meal. He had the slightly long beaky nose of the Greyjoys, something about his features that he recognised. Those eyes...the boy laughed at something she'd said leaning forward to steal a kiss from the girl. The corner of his mouth tilting up, in a faintly ironic smile. 

It had to be! The lad had to be a Greyjoy, he recognised that smirk from the daughter who was always docking and causing trouble, and the girl... He was convinced that this was the Ned's daughter with that fire-red hair and her blue eyes!

What was happening? Had the lad stolen her away from her family? He had a bit of a reputation as a ladies' man, the gossip was.  
The landlord knew which his side his bread was buttered on. His family had been loyal to the Mallisters and by extension Lord Eddard and his family for generations and the Ironmen were little loved in this part of the world. It was not hard for him to make his decision. _'Tis a shame though, the lass and lad look at each other as if...well, as if they really loved each other...._

The landlord sent for his youngest son.

“Jacky, I want you to run to the castle and ask to speak to Ser Jason. Make sure yer see 'im right away. It's important.”  


“Aye, Dad.”

“Just one thing...don't let yerself be seen.” he said, nodding over to the couple who were completely wrapped up in each other. “Go out the back way.”

Jacky didn't need to be told twice. He scurried away on nimble feet.

Ser Jason was reading his messages from the many ravens and couriers that came to the castle. This latest one from Lord Stark troubled him. _To think that his daughter had gone missing taken by an Ironman! It must be Lord Ned's worst nightmare._

_He could have told Ned that fostering one of their spawn would be a bad idea from the start, he would have been better off drowning the lad or pushing him off their steep treacherous cliffs, but Lord Ned had always tried to be a stern but merciful man. He'd taken the boy into his household and treated him like a son, given him a chance at a decent life and this is how the boy repaid him! No wonder he wants his hide!_

“There's a lad who insists on seeing you. Says it's important. From the Trout and Boots-” the manservant said.

Ser Jason raised his head, his notice piqued. He knew the inn. A rather ramshackle humble inn in an insalubrious part of town but with good ale and food; and quite the thoroughfare for sailors and traders passing through the port. He'd got much useful information from the landlord and counted him as one of his best contacts.

“Let him in.”

Jacky bowed at being admitted to Lord Jason's presence. He gazed round the grand yet austere solar with something close to awe. What he wouldn't give to work somewhere like here!

“M'Lord, my father sent me.” the lad said bowing low to him.

Ser Jason hastened him up. “No need for ceremony lad. Why has your father sent you to me?”

“It's about the missing girl. The Stark maiden.” the lad said.

Ser Jason's ears pricked up immediately. “Aye, what have you heard?”

Jacky wrinkled his snub freckled nose. “It ain't what we heard m'lord. They're in our tavern!”

Ser Jason wasn't sure he'd heard right for a second. “In your tavern?” he said slowly. “They've got rooms at the Trout and Boots?”

“Aye, they got rooms a couple of days ago.” the lad confided. “Newly-weds they claimed they were. I think they're planning for a longer stay than they'd first thought for I heard the lass asking for work downstairs and he was heading down to the docks to pick up some casual work. Da thinks they've run out of funds-”

Gods, Ned and Cat are going to be furious when they hear about that, thought Ser Jason. But what a stroke of luck that they can't escape so readily and are stranded in Seagard Town for the immediate future!

“Ye've done well, lad.” he reached into a pocket to reward him and his father for their loyal service. “Here, this is for your father and here's one for yourself.”

Jacky broke out in a grin as he pocketed the coin. “Thank yer m'lord 'tis mighty generous of you!”

As soon as Lord Eddard and Jory arrived at Seagard with their men to catch up with the guilty pair Ser Jason gave them directions to the tavern and went with them to see that justice was done. “I'll imagine you'll want to capture them both as soon as possible, Lord Eddard.”

“Give them no chance to escape.”

“They're up here at the moment, I can hear them.” the landlord said as they approached the end room. “In there...” he made a disapproving face. “They're at it again.”

“What do you mean again?”

The landlord looked mighty uncomfortable to have to say this to Ser Jason's liege lord. _What man wants to hear about his daughter and another man sleeping with one another?_

“Well, my lord. They're newly-weds or so they claimed and mad in love. They're up most of the night, swiving twice thrice sometimes four times a night.” he said reluctantly. “I didn't want to say it, m'lord but ye did ask...”

Ser Jason, Jory and the landlord looked away not daring to look at Lord Stark's outraged face.

“What are we going to do?”

Ned looked uncomfortable. “We can't walk in on them having well...sex-”

“Well she doesn't sound as if she's being hurt...” Jory said dubiously before trailing away, in a failed attempt to be tactful.

The other men swapped a glance. As if thinking the same thing. In fact they sound as if they are quite obviously enjoying every second of their illicit encounter.

“Well perhaps we don't have to walk in right away.”

Ser Jason was puzzled by Ned's scruples. “Lord Ned, you wanted proof he was debauching your daughter, what more do you require?”

“I suppose there's some things a father never wants to see with his own eyes.”

“Have you the key?” Ser Jason asked the landlord. 

The man handed it over. "They you are m'lord. You'll need a lever if they've barred the door as well." 

“We'll try to do this with minimal disruption.” Ned tried to assure him. “All we want is my daughter safe and sound and for Greyjoy to be apprehended.” he sighed, sounding older and more worn than ever. “I just want this entire scandal to be over as soon as possible.”

“What if he tries to resist capture? If he was desperate enough to steal your daughter he is unlikely to come quietly.”

Ned's hand strayed to Ice which lay in it's scabbard by his hip. “If the lad knows what's good for him, he won't put up too much of a resistance.”

Theon and Sansa were falling asleep after making love. She snuggled deeper next to him, feeling safe and secure in her lover's arms. She didn't think it was possible for her to love him more but their disappointment at being thwarted in their escape to the Isles had brought them together even stronger.

_He needs me to support him and be strong. I can do that. I can be the wife that he needs._

“Theon?”

He turned sleepily towards her in the darkness, giving her a kiss on her nose. “Yes, dearheart?”

“Have you thought about what we'll do next. If we have children?”

It was very possible. Lady Catelyn had been a fruitful wife and they'd hardly been careful since the wedding, caught up in their attraction and physical desire for one another. “Every man wants sons to carry on his name, but a daughter as fair as you, that would be no bad thing...”

“What would you name our children?” She asked feeling unaccountably pleased that he wanted a life with her and children. When we get to the Isles, everything will be better. Lord Balon is bound to accept us if I bear Theon an heir...

Theon seemed to like the sound of children of their own. Bold young girls like the sister he sometimes talked to her about. Walking by the shore arm in arm and growing old together. Boisterous lads who sailed as easy as riding.  
he considered it for a moment.

“Harren- a good Ironborn name. A name fit for a king of the Isles. And Dagmer-” he pronounced firmly. “Unless you had any burning desire on what to call our son. You weren't hoping to call him Florian or something?”

“Dagmer?” she asked, leaning up on her elbow and smiling up at him before nudging him hard for his little crack about one of her favourite heroes of song. “- and you shouldn't tease about Florian, it's a perfectly lovely name!” She laid her head against his chest. “Why Dagmer?”

“When I was a child back on Pyke, our old master of arms was named Dagmer Cleftjaw. He was a good man fierce and loyal to my father but kind with it too. He treated me better than my own father did.”  
She knew he and his father had a rather fraught relationship. Balon didn't seem to like Theon all that much, the way he described their relationship it sounded as if there was not that much love between them.

“Since it's important to you, I can work with that, Theon. Dagmer Greyjoy, Lord of the Isles. Has a good ring to it.” she murmured, growing ever sleepier. She snuggled by his side, her eyes fluttering shut, pillowed on his bare chest with his arms round her. “Good night, my love.”

 

Theon awoke, alert at the unfamiliar sound. He stiffened, suddenly hearing the key turn in the lock.

“Sansa, wake up!” he whispered into her ear. “Someone's trying to get into the room.”

She woke suddenly with a sharp intake of breath. 

“What shall we do? We're trapped. How can we escape?” her voice was tight with panic. The pounding on the door grew louder and louder.

“Unbar the door!”

Sansa looked at him in panic, her worst fears coming true. Their idyllic interlude was over and cold hard reality came crashing in on both of them. How on earth would they explain what they'd done to her father?

“It's Jory. My father cannot be too far behind. Gods, he must find us naked as babes!” she threw his doublet at him in a panic. “Quick, get dressed darling!”

Sansa and Theon were hastily pulling on some clothing when the door finally gave. The couple froze guiltily, caught in an unmistakably compromising position. There was no way either of them were going to be able to deny what was going on. 

Her father barged through the door, stony-faced. He was followed by the landlord who couldn't meet their eyes aware of his betrayal, Jory Cassel and Ser Jason Mallister and five guards.

“Seize him!” Ned said.

Theon was forced to his knees and struck by an over-enthusiastic guard. He reeled from the force of the blow 

Sansa cried out in horror as she saw her lover wince in pain. “Don't hurt him, please don't hurt him Father, I love him. He's my husband.” she cried, starting to sob.

Ned shook his head at his guilty daughter and her lover. “Oh Sansa my fair foolish girl. What have you done?” He turned to his men. “We head straight for Winterfell. No lingering. I just want this to be over!” 

The guards surrounded them, making sure that Theon and Sansa were separated from each other throughout the journey home. She barely dared to sneak a look over to him but she couldn't help being concerned and scared for them both. 

_This was all her fault. She was the one who had asked him to run away with her, she had pleaded and begged for him to go with her and now everything had fallen to pieces. Her father was going to be furious with her. Her mother would be so disappointed. She would be in worse trouble than Arya had ever been. The consequences of her actions were just starting to sink in._

_I have to be brave. He believes in me. I have to prove myself to be worthy of his trust._

Her hands were bound in front of her. Her wrists ached and itched from under her bonds but she knew better than to ask someone to loosen them. They were probably afraid she would make a run for it. She hoped that he wouldn't be punished too harshly by her father. Would he be sent away in disgrace?

 _Would she never see him again?_ Sansa couldn't bear the thought. She loved him and she couldn't let her father and family part them.

 

He couldn't let himself look at her, knowing that she was going to be in so much trouble for running away with him. Ned Stark's disappointment and righteous anger was going to hard enough to endure as it was but the thought of Sansa being punished was almost more than he could take.

We have to tell him the truth, no matter what the consequence. That is her only hope. 

Perhaps if they knew what Joffrey was capable of then they wouldn't be so insistent that she marry him. There was a part of him that wished he had taken what she'd offered that first night on the run. So hard to resist her soft mouth, the slender curves of her body pressed up against his for warmth as they took shelter.

"Don't you want me?" she'd breathed into his ear, and it had taken every single scrap of self-control he'd possessed not to. He knew Lord Eddard would never forgive him if he did. He prayed for some self-discipline when all he wanted to do is take her right there on the forest floor, propriety be damned.

Thank every god he knew they had managed to find a septon who after being plied with wine and crossing his palm with silver, didn't ask too many questions. He hurriedly married them allowing Theon to drape his cloak around her shoulders and anointing them.

_In the sight of the Gods we are man and wife, but will Lord and Lady Stark accept it? Will the king?_


	6. Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How everyone reacted at Winterfell and the guilty couple are brought back and held to account.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would just like to thank everyone for their kind words and how they've received this little tale of mine!

Her sister had lost her mind. She couldn't be serious. Her sister the good girl, the perfect little highborn lady, running away from home. With Theon Greyjoy, of all people! 

Father and Mother were out of their minds with worry. As soon as they realised she had disappeared from the castle they convened a council to decide on their next course of action. Robb was present as the oldest but she lurked outside waiting to hear news of her suddenly wayward sister.

I know she's disappeared and I suspect who with but if I tell the family...

Her parents would not take the news well at all...

I have to speak, but what do I say? I promised Sansa that I would not raise the alarm until the morning. I've never seen her so desperate to get away and escape her duty. Did she ever want to marry Joffrey at all? 

If Arya were completely honest with herself she hadn't relished the thought of the crown prince becoming her good-brother. He had a vicious streak a furlong wide and he was immensely rude to everyone he met. 

I don't think he's said one polite or pleasant word to anyone at Winterfell since he arrived.

If Sansa had finally come to her senses and walked away from a disastrous match in the making she could see why, even if she didn't understand. Maybe she'd cracked under the pressure of the royal proposal and the relentless drive to be perfect at all times. But what a time to do it!

 

Robb got up to find Arya pacing outside his door.

“What is it, squirt? You're up early?” he said fondly.

Arya's guilty conscience made her confess, feeling like she was betraying her sister. “Sansa...she's gone.”

Robb frowned , his nose scrunching up. “What are you talking about?”

“She isn't in her bedroom. Jeyne hasn't seen her.” Arya's voice rose in agitation and more than a hint of guilt. “She's made a run for it!”

Robb frowned. “Perhaps she's gone on a wander.”

“All night?” Arya said sceptically. “No Robb, she's gone from the castle and Mother and Father return from White Harbour soon. What do we tell them?”

His face fell in disbelief, registering what his younger sister was frantically trying to tell him. “You're serious, aren't you?

“Of course I am! D'ye think this is something I would joke about? She's run away!”

Robb scratched his fiery curls. It was far too early in the morning for this. Theon had sloped off to town again. He had discouraged him from following him for a revel, merely hinting that he was busy courting some girl. Robb suspected that this dalliance was a little more serious than usual but Theon refused to confide in him- he had got very secretive of late.

“Alright, Squirrel, let's have a look for myself.” he said, shaking his head.

 

“She's gone missing.” Robb was forced to report to his father. He couldn't believe his sister, his pretty proper lady of a sister had run off in the night with his best friend Theon, arya had reluctantl suggested. Had she lost her mind?

Ned couldn't believe it. Where could she have gone? 

“She must have disappeared in the middle of the night. She was gone by next morning.” 

"It's even worse, Sir." Jory didn't want to be the one who had to break it to his lord but he had to know the truth, before the Lannisters came up roaring hellfire and demanding heads roll for the insult. 

"How could it be even worse, Jory? My daughter is missing! She could be in danger, hurt, alone-"

“Where could she have disappeared to?” cried Cat.

Jory's honest face twisted into an awkward expression. "Theon Greyjoy is missing as well, my Lord. Hasn't been seen not even in Winter Town all day."

Cat looked at Jory in alarm, her fair face falling in dismay. "Theon? He's not here?"

Jory was forced to shake his head. “No, Ma'am, not a trace of him.”

"He might still be underneath some whore in Winter Town. you know what that lad is like." Ned said, hoping against hope it was true and that the unthinkable had not just happened. His ward, son of his enemy Balon Greyjoy had just stolen off with his pride and joy. When he got his hands on the lad he was going to kill him. Slowly. With his bare hands! No wonder he had stammered so guiltily as he asked to court her. Ned went cold at the thought. 

How long has he been pursuing her? Months? Years? 

And this was going on right underneath our noses and we had not the slightest idea?

"You're sure about this?" Cat had gone white at the lips. This was a nightmare. Not her sweet daughter, in the hands of that dreadful boy? “That they've disappeared together?”

Maester Luwin sighed. "No one has seen hide nor hair of the pair of them. I'm terribly sorry, my Lady, but what other conclusion can we come to?-"

Jory agreed with the maester. "I would say that they had gone missing together. That's the only logical conclusion, m'lord?"

Ned sighed, looking years older all of a sudden. "Send out a search party far and wide. Do not rest until you've found the lass." 

"She's very distinctive." Jory said, trying to be of some comfort. "-she can't have gone far, m'lord. We'll find Miss Sansa, I promise you."

Ned sighed. “I'm coming with you-”

“Ned!” Cat wrung her hands. “It's the dead of night.”

“She has to be found. Tonight.” Ned got up keen to be doing something, anything to bring back his girl. 

“We searched all the way to the border of the Bolton lands and the White Knife. We lost all trace of them there.”

“The forest-” Ned hoped they hadn't gone through there. Theon's woodcraft was as good as theirs and if he'd taken her through the Wolfswood, it would be harder for them to track the guilty pair down.

Cat stayed up all night waiting anxiously for a sign of her husband or her daughter. It was nearly noon when a weary Ned made his way back to Winterfell without any sign of the girl.

“Did you have any luck? Ned?”  
He shook his head, looking like he was about to drop. “I'm sorry, Cat. Not a damned sign. We'll have to widen the search-”  
Cat and Robb swopped a worried glance. If they prolonged and widened the search for Sansa they would not be able to keep it a secret any more. Before long, every family in the North would know their shame and the Royal family were still touring in the area visiting their vassals. How long before the news filtered through to them?

“We have to keep on. We don't have a choice.”

 

“There's a raven from Ser Jason. I wonder what he could want?” Cat observed that morning as they received messages from the outside world.

Despite himself, Ned felt a spark of hope. “D'ye think he has any news of them?

“Seagard is near to the coast.” Cat reasoned. 

“All they would have had to do is get a ship across Ironman's Bay and they would have been out of our reach.” the knowledge that Sansa and Theon had got so far, that they were determined to take this as far as they had was a distinct worry.

Cat looked hopefully at her husband, both keyed up and anxious. “Let's open it and find out.”

Ned scanned the parchment, hope dawning on his stern face. Cat didn't dare to hope, but things looked promising.

“Ned? What did Ser Jason say?”

Ned smiled with relief for the first time since their daughter had disappeared. “Thanks the Gods they're still on the mainland. They've been found!”

“I would have thought that they would have attempted to make their way to the Isles. Once they got to his homeland it would have been near impossible to get them back.” Cat thought it through.

“I suspect that was what they were planning to do, only the couple ran out of funds. By all accounts they work-”

Cat was outraged at the thought. “My daughter, working!”

Ned took charge, changing his strategy in the light of the new information they'd received. “We'll tell Ser Jason to keep a discreet eye on them. If they realise they are being watched they might attempt to flee again. If they do, we might never find them.”

 

As soon as Ser Jason arrived at Winterfell to report his findings Ned and Cat were eager to question him as to Sansa and Theon's whereabouts.

“You say they live as man and wife, Ser Jason?” Ned questioned as they gathered in his office.

“Aye Ned, that's what my informant tells me. I have men keeping a close eye on them but so far they seem to be staying where they are.”

“He's dishonoured her, he must have dishonoured her. I'm going to wring his neck. I swear it!” Cat muttered with a positively murderous look. She paced fretting about the whereabouts of her child.

“Aye, they share a humble room at the 'Trout and Boots' in Seagard town. She works at the inn and takes in a bit of fine sewing and he's a jobbing labourer on the docks. My informant tells me they seem very much in love.”

Ned knew it then; the lad had seduced his girl. He was living in sin with the lass, probably debauching her nightly. There was no way they would be able to hush this up.

“Thank you for telling us what you know Ser Jason, and for hurrying here to tell us what you know-” Ned said. “Jory and I will return with you to apprehend them and bring them back before any more damage is done.”

“I have always been a loyal bannerman to you and yours, Ned. Pray the Gods Sansa is found and brought back safe to you.”

\-----  
As soon as they had received word of the runaways from Ser Jason, Ned and Jory sent a party to fetch them back as soon as possible. 

“We must make all possible speed just in case.”

“But what if the couple flee, m'lord?”

“Ser Jason has spread the word through the docks. They won't get a passage across Ironman's Bay now, not for a thousand dragons.”  
\-----  
Ned groaned as soon as his men left him alone with Cat. 

Theon had been known throughout Winterfell for many moons for his skirt-chasing ways and debauchery. He had often suspected the Miller's sons might be his though the woman had never admitted to it, even under scrutiny. 

He hadn't put a stop to it at the time, reasoning to himself that if he was tupping every lass who let herself be dazzled by his silver tongue, dark handsome looks and cocky arrogant smile, at least he wasn't planning their slow painful deaths or stealing anything not nailed down. He was a young lad, perhaps he just needed to sow some wild oats.

Perhaps he should have expected some trouble from a Greyjoy, but he had never dreamed that it would involve his daughter.

"What are we going to do?" Cat fretted. "How are we going to explain this to his Grace and his family? They're on their way now as we speak. What are we going to do?"

"She can't marry him now. It's impossible. And this isn't the type of thing we're going to be able to hush up. Too many people know the truth now."

How long before people started to talk, and come to the wrong conclusion? Damn Theon and his pursuit of the girl! They should have paid more attention. Nipped anything untoward in the bud before something like this happened. He remembered that dance they'd shared, the closeness of their embrace as she'd looked up at Theon all adoringly, the slide of his hand on the small of her back.  
I should not have given the lad the benefit of the doubt. I should have listened to my gut. Never trust a Greyjoy isn't that what they say?

"How could she have done this?" Cat looked bewildered. "She was always such a good girl. Never gave Septa Mordane a moment's trouble. Always so sweet and biddable. And she knew her duty, I assure you."

"I don't know, Cat but I promise that I'll get to the bottom of this." Ned tried to comfort his wife. "I promise we'll get her back."

##  Back at Winterfell

Sansa was having to face her mother, father and Robb to explain her conduct. She quailed at the thought of the disappointment and anger she would face but she had to be firm. Theon was depending on her. She couldn't give up on them. 

"Tell me why I should not have his head, Sansa? He stole you away. He dishonoured you!" Ned said.

Sansa had never seen her father so furious with her. She had to stand her ground, no matter how angry he was with her. "He didn't dishonour me. "

He shook his head. "Do you expect anyone to believe that, Sansa? You ran away with him. You threw away your reputation on a worthless boy."

Her chin lifted up. "He isn't worthless. He cares for me, I know it. He loves me, as I love him-"

"Oh, Sansa." Ned shook his head, a sad expression on his face which made her feel even worse. He was genuinely disappointed with her. She had let him down. But she'd had no choice, and she would do it again if that was what it took to stop the marriage to Joffrey. 

"Did he threaten you? Coerce you into doing something so out of character? That's the only explanation I can think of." Her mother asked, her voice tight with anxiety. Cat had large dark circles under her eyes which made Sansa feel terribly guilty inside. They were probably worrying themselves sick as to where she was. 

If only I could make them understand I had no other option. Not with Joffrey on his way back here, ready to demand her hand in marriage. She recoiled at the thought.

"He didn't force me." Sansa insisted. "You've got it all wrong."

"You know what type of a man he is. A wencher, a drunkard? He's a Greyjoy. How can you want to ally yourself with that?" Cat's voice was bitter with disgust and disappointment. "A no good reaver from a family of savage brutes."

Sansa knew it wasn't sensible, not when he was in such disgrace, but she couldn't let that injustice slide. "How can you say that about him. Do you think he asked to be sent here? To live in our halls?"

"That was the price of Balon's rebellion." Ned started feeling out of sorts. “I took him as a ward as surety for Balon's good behaviour and I thought it actually worked.”

"How is that Theon's fault? Why should he have to pay the price for his father's crimes?" Ned was shocked. His sweet bidable daughter talking back to him, defending her lover.

“He's got you seeing night as day, you don't know what you're talking about. He's no good for you-” Cat shook her head at her daughter.

"Please tell me that he didn't touch you."

"Nothing happened." Sansa said firmly to both of them.  
Robb scoffed in the background. "C'mon, this is Theon we're talking about. I don't think there's a serving wench or whore in Winter Town he hasn't tupped. He's a hound. Everyone knows this. And we're supposed to believe that he ran away with you and didn't touch you. Not even once?"

“He wouldn't, not until we were wed." Sansa told them firmly, putting that out there. No one as yet had adressed that side of the problem, almost as if they were pretending it didn't happen.

"Wed? He wanted to wed you?" Cat couldn't believe her ears. The presumption of that boy! It was just as well he wasn't in front of her right now, or she'd box his ears for that one!

"At least he had the slightest scrap of sense. I think Father would have lopped his head off if he had proof of him dishonouring you. Perhaps the situation can be salvaged-" Robb said in a rather doubtful tone of voice.

"How? She's promised to Joffrey."

Robb mused aloud, looking for a solution. "If the king released her from her vows. We could find someone to marry Sansa. All doesn't have to be lost. It's not ideal but-”

"That's the trouble.” Ned said shaking his head. “The king will not release her."

“What?” Mother and son were struck silent by that.

"Prince Joffrey and Queen Cersei insist upon the wedding. They will not be thwarted, even by your disgrace.”

Sansa reeled in horror. This was getting worse and worse! She'd run away from home to flee from Joffrey and his unwanted attention and now she was back in the castle and the prince was returning?

“The king and queen are all coming back here?” Cat asked faintly.

Ned looked uncomfortable, knowing this was hardly going to improve matters, yet he'd had no choice but to inform the King of the situation. “I had no choice but to send a raven to them. They're heading here as soon as possible.”

## Theon

Theon lay in the brig, unsure of whether it was day or night. The cell was dark and deserted and he saw few people except for when one of the men came round twice daily to give him rations and empty his slops bucket.  
What is going to happen to me? 

He had no doubt that Ned was going to punish him for absconding with his daughter. 

He was probably destined for a life sentence at the Wall or exile far away. 

The Starks would attempt to sweep the scandal under the carpet and marry her off the someone else, a lord who was desperate for an heir and not too fussy about where it came from. 

They would never be allowed to be together. 

\-----  
Arya shook her head. She would have never dreamt that Sansa had it in her to be so stubborn and defy everyone. Theon must have really messed with her head, got her believing up was down and black was white.   
What could have happened that Sansa was so adamant she wouldn't have Joffrey at any price? I have to use my brain. Think Arya!

When she was brought back with Theon there was one question her sister flat out refused to answer: Was she still a maiden? Everyone believed her silence was evidence of Theon's guilt but what if-

Arya stopped dead in her tracks, horrified by her sudden thought.

What if it wasn't Theon who dishonoured her sister? What if it was Joffrey instead?

She resolved to try and see Theon to get the truth out of him. It was going to be harder said than done.

 

\-----  
“Why did you seduce my sister?” Arya demanded as soon as she had let herself into the cell.  
She was a persistent wench and aggressive with it as well. He had no doubt that she would try to enact revenge on him.   
“You knew that she was gullible that she believes all those stupid tales about knights and lady-loves. It must have been so damned easy to seduce her into doing what you wanted. Was that your revenge? Shaming my sister?”

“Shaming her, what are you wittering about?” he replied with some impatience. Gods, the girl was irritating in an argument.

She glared at him. “Mother always distrusted you. She said one day you'd try and get revenge for your father's defeat.”

“You prattle about things you don't understand.” Theon sighed, shaking his head.

“Then what is it about if not revenge?” She challenged.

He decided to shock her with the truth. Let's see if the little wolf-maid can handle it. “Love.”

She laughed at him disbelievingly. 

“If you really loved her as you claim then you would leave her be.” 

Theon had to admit it hurt just a little that Arya didn't seem to believe that he was capable of love and tenderness. That his feelings for her sister were real and true. Everyone thinks that it is nothing but a lie and yet our love for each other is the purest truth I know.

“What lies did you tell her?”

“I told her no lies.”

“Pfff! Everyone knew you were a wencher and a rake. You dallied with every serving maid in Winterfell! Why couldn't you just leave my sister alone?”

“You ruined her. What high-born man will have her now? And all for a roll in the hay you could have got from any other girl with just a smile and a wink!”

Theon thought this was mightily unfair of her to accuse him of this, considering the many nights on the run where he had desperately tried to keep his hands off Sansa. “I put my cloak around her and we said the words in front of the septon because I didn't want to despoil her.”

“You did what!”

“Put my cloak round her. We are wed in the sight of your gods and men-” 

Arya's mouth had been gaping open in shock. She closed it suddenly, a sceptical look on her face.“I hope for your sake that you lie because my father and mother will never forgive you. I wouldn't be surprised if they sent you to the Wall for this. It's no more than you deserve!”

“Why would I lie about this? About something so important?” He asked her.

Arya hesitated, not having an answer to that. “Why did she flee? You know, don't you? Was it Joffrey?” By his silence she knew that she had hit upon the truth

“What did he do to her?” Arya demanded, grabbing him by the scruff of his neck and shaking him.

“Tell me what Prince Joffrey did to my sister or so help me God-”

Theon shook his head.

“Don't you dare lie or hold back! Haven't you done enough damage? You ruined her!”

“He attacked her. There, are you happy now?” Theon burst out, stung into a revelation he didn't want to let out. He stared at her, wishing he could have taken back those words but it was too late now, the truth was out in the open.

Arya drew back in horror at his admission. 

“Attacked her? How?” Her eyes narrowed in suspicion, making her look quite fierce.

“How do you think? I don't want to talk of this. Sansa wouldn't like it.”

Theon felt the cold steel of her fine little blade against his throat. He had no doubt the little hellion would slit his throat as soon as look at him. “You're going to tell me everything. No holding back.”

“I found her with Joffrey in the stable. He's lured her there and trapped, saying horrendous things to her. I don't know exactly how far it had gone, but he'd ripped her gown and pinned her down. I lost my temper and punched him. I might have kicked him in the stomach as well-”

"Why didn't you tell my parents of this?” Arya's voice rose utterly appalled by what she'd heard. “Why didn't you go straight to them? They wouldn't have forced her to marry Joffrey if they knew he was capable of this!"

She glared at him in the gloom with accusing grey eyes, as if saying, I hold you responsible for this mess.

“She asked me not to,” Theon admitted, “She begged me not to say a word.”

“Stupid girl,” Arya muttered. “Why?”

“Because she believed it would be her word and mine against the Crown Prince and who would believe us? She was desperate not to marry Joffrey, now do you see why?”

\-----

## Sansa

She wasn't imagining it. It had definitely been two moons since she had her moonblood. Sansa felt a terrible sense of dread as she tried to come to terms with it. She ought to have known. Her dresses had become a little tight round the waist and chest since she had arrived back home. Sometimes her breasts and nipples felt swollen and more sensitive. But the queasiness in the morning was the final clue to the latest development in her troubles. 

What was she going to do? 

If her mother or Septa Mordane found out this new development they would force her to drink tansy. She would lose her child, the only scrap of Theon she had left. She couldn't bear the thought.   
A child. I'm going to be a mother. 

She should have known something like this would happen. Once they had gotten married they'd hardly been careful, making love every night -sometimes several times a night, and her mother's side of the family had always been famously fertile. On reflection she'd shouldn't have been remotely surprised that this would happen.

_I have to see him, no matter what the danger. Somehow, I have to get past the guards and get into the brig. I must tell Theon. He has to know that he is going to be a father!_

_Gods help us both, what have we done?_

\-----  
Jeyne tried to comfort her friend, who said little but gazed with morose eyes out of the window. Since her disappearance with Theon her freedom had been severely curtailed down to a couple of hours out of her room every day always in the company of someone else mostly her mother or Septa Mordane.

It wasn't fair. Sansa was so unhappy without him and it wasn't right to separate them now that Theon had given her his cloak. What they had done was incredibly reckless but now that Sansa had told her in secret what had happened when they had run away from Winterfell on their desperate flight there was a part of her that thought that it was a bit romantic as well. 

They loved each other so much they were prepared to risk everything to be together despite the dangers. Theon looked at Sansa as if he genuinely cared for her. She knew her mistress was madly in love with him and always had been in truth, though it had taken a long time to admit it. She couldn't see a way out of their predicament and things were only going to get worse if what she suspected came to pass.

She hasn't admitted it to me just yet, but I think that she's having his child. Lord Eddard and the royal family will never forgive either of them for this!


	7. The Truth Comes Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trial of Theon Greyjoy gets underway and a secret comes to light...

Theon was led into the Great Hall still bound in chains. He could feel the judgemental glares of her father's men, and Robb stern-faced by his parent's side. Robb turned away at the sight of him, that struck Theon at the heart. Robb was a good friend, the only true friend he had and even he would have nothing to do with him. 

If he were honest he knew that he deserved it. He had betrayed his best friend and brought shame onto her family.

 _What else could I do?_ He asked himself torn in two by conflicting demands on his honour and conscience. Sansa, the girl he loved and married, the only one he could see himself spending a lifetime with, the mother of his children had begged him to save her from Joffrey. In doing so, he'd ruined her family and brought the displeasure of the royal family on them.

King Robert and Queen Cersei sat on the dais, ready to pass judgement on him. He was dragged before them by the guard who were none too gentle, twisting his arms behind him so forcefully, he worried they would dislocate his shoulders.

“These are very serious charges, Greyjoy. You are accused of abduction of a high-born maid. The prince's betrothed, no less! Deceiving her into entering a fraudulent marriage with you and debauching her. How do you plead?” the king thundered glaring at him as if he had committed a dreadful treason. "You were caught in the act with Lady Stark half-naked for anyone to see!"

“Your Grace, that is not what happened!” Sansa exclaimed, unable to hold her tongue at the twisted version of events presented before the court.

“Lady Sansa, I suggest that you keep silent! You are in enough disgrace as it is!” snapped Cersei in her iciest tones.

“Now, now we must have both sides of the argument if we are to come to a just judgement.” Renly interjected seeking to lighten the mood. Theon gave him a slightly grateful look. _At least someone was on their side, even just a little._

“This isn't one of your legal games, Renly!” Robert rebuked his younger brother. “This is my son's betrothed and his future bride.”

“Do you deny the charge?" he snapped, turning to Theon. "-That you fled in the night disguised and evaded capture?”

There was no point in lying. “No, I do not.”

“What right did you have to do that? When she was so clearly betrothed to a young man who's claim was in every way superior to yours?”

Theon faced these claims with an impassive face despite their hectoring tone. He could have laughed at the statement that Joffrey had a superior claim but for once he controlled himself; the situation and Sansa's pale worried face were too serious for mirth. He wanted to go over to her and comfort her, tell her to be strong and that they could fight the world if she were by his side, but he couldn't. 

“The fact of the matter is, your Grace that Sansa didn't want to marry Joffrey. She wanted me.” Theon said to them all. "She asked me to take her away. I asked her to marry me and we were wed in Seagard by the laws of your faith. Deny the truth as you will. she is my wife. I love her."

 _It's done,_ Theon thought as uproar welled up in the courtroom, both parties raising their voices and talking over each other. _Let them say what they will, the truth is out there now. Gods help us both if they do not accept it!_

 

 

"I have made a decision regarding the Stark girl and my betrothal to her." announced Joffrey in the main hall on the second day of the trial. His eyes glinted as if he were enjoying every moment of this and having the advantage over Lord Stark and his family.

"Of course I am disappointed she saw fit to dishonour me by dallying with the Greyjoy lad. No man lest of all a king want to think of himself as cuckolded by his beloved, but I can forgive. We can start again-" he said in a voice dripping with insincerity. "- after all she claims quite vehemently that he didn't touch her, and I wouldn't like to call the lady a liar."

Sansa didn't believe a word that dripped out of that lying mouth of his. There was a vindictive glint in his green eyes that told her different. They wouldn't make her marry Joffrey, not after all that. He would never cease punishing her for her disloyalty.

"You shamed the prince, but Joffrey is willing to forgive your transgressions and accept you as his bride. All he is asking is that you take vows in the next couple of days and then we will all make sure to forget this unfortunate incident." Cersei chimed in, all fake bonhomie and smiles.

"It's a very generous offer, Sansa, and perhaps more than you deserve considering your rash actions." Her father said, reluctantly falling in with the stronger will of the Lannisters.

They were all going to pretend as if this didn't happen and sweep her shame under the carpet, as if Theon had never fastened his cloak round her shoulders and promised to protect her with his sword. She was his now. She would not be parted from him in a thousand years. 

"I'm sorry, your Grace, but you know why I am reluctant to marry you." She looked at him unflinchingly, her blue eyes as cold as frost and winter as she stood up defiantly facing them. "I cannot."

"Sansa Stark! I am surprised at you." Cersei gasped. “Do you have any shame at all! You should be begging for forgiveness!”

Sansa trembled at defying the queen but her voice was firm. 

"I cannot marry you, Prince Joffrey and furthermore I will not. You know why, my lord-"

“What does she mean by that? Ned, what is this?” Cat fretted.

Joffrey shrugged as if he had no idea of what she spoke of but his eyes glinted with a vindictive malice.

"What is this utter insolence! Are ye going to stand for it Lord Eddard? Your daughter could do with some months with the Silent Sisters to remind her of her place!" Cersei scowled infuriated by the chit's stubbornness and shameless refusal to fall in with their plans.

“You will marry Joffrey and we'll have no more of this nonsense.” The king thundered. “Your wilfulness has caused enough trouble, lass.”

Sansa trembled in the path of Robert's anger but she managed to hold her ground, chin up like a queen. “No, I absolutely categorically refuse. I can't marry him any more, your Grace. I am truly sorry but there's the truth of it.” 

She quailed to defy the King in one of his rages, but her voice by some miracle was steady. Theon marvelled at her bravery which would have done honour to a warrior. Robert had the hot temper of the Baratheons in full measure and many a grown man had quailed in his boots at the blast of his wrath.

“Why not?” 

_Because I am already wed? Because right now I am carrying Theon's child and the only heir to the Iron Isles within me. Because I love Theon with all my heart and soul and your son is a vile foul creature who tried to despoil me._

“Your Grace I am already wed. I cannot wed another even if I wanted, which I do not.”

“You're lucky the offer is still on the table, lass. Don't be so swift to look a gift horse in the mouth.” King Robert said grumpily.

Sansa stood her ground. “I cannot marry your son, your Grace. I am wed.”

“She insists upon this foolishness!” the king's voice rose in exasperation.

“Please... Did you believe Theon when he said that?”

Robb's disbelief stung her but she stuck to her stance. “We spoke words in front of the Septon. We exchanged cloaks. I am his. I am truly sorry to have disappointed everyone. I have done wrong and neglected my duty as a maid of high birth. But it cannot be undone now.”

 

 

“She seems absolutely adamant that she is married.” Robert sighed as he sat with Ned. “Gods, never thought a daughter of your's would be so stubborn. She seemed like such a meek biddable girl...”

Ned was inclined to agree. This behaviour was most unlike the Sansa he knew. _How well do you really know her?_ A small voice inside him said.

“She has no right to dispose of herself so. Does she not know who she is? She is a Stark of Winterfell and she wants to throw her self away on an Ironman? A Greyjoy? Scum of the seas, reavers and raiders.” Robert was working himself up into a passion. “Damn it, Ned, perhaps we should have shown old Balon no mercy and drowned his whelp when we took Pyke. Stannis said there'd be trouble and I heeded not his words-”

Renly observed in a mild voice, watching the disagreement between the older men. “Shouting at the lass isn't going to get you results. The girl is just going to dig her heels in and refuse to budge. Lady Sansa believes herself to be head over heels in love-”

“She's a maid of ten and six she barely knows her own mind, Renly-” scoffed Robert. “How long can she resist for?”

The younger man shrugged as if he respectfully begged to differ. “She hasn't changed her story no matter what we've said. She swears that they are wed in the sight of the Gods, she will not relinquish him.” 

“You're right, brother.” Robert grudgingly admitted that his younger brother was speaking some sense. _Maybe honey rather vinegar might catch more flies- who knew?_

“We have to get someone to talk to her; someone who can persuade her to do her duty and forget this rash and reckless match.” Ned said.

“How about if I try?” Renly suggested with a diffident little shrug. “I don't promise anything but a civilised talk, finding a little common ground might help matters...”

“You think you can get through to her, Lord Renly? Succeed where we have failed?” Ned asked.

Robert seemed to come round to the idea, the scowl disappearing from his face. “Renly's good at charming people and persuading them. Perhaps if the lass won't listen to us, she'll listen to him.”

 

\-----  
“You must speak to her, get her to see sense. What a to-do. I have no idea why the lass is so set on not having Joffrey. Doesn't she realise that she would be Queen if she marries him?” Robert fretted, before Renly could get a chance to speak with the lass.

Renly suspected that there was more to this situation than first met the eye. _Something must have happened._

_No one refused the singular honour of becoming a future queen without a good reason. His nephew was a wicked horrible boy, he'd seen that at close range ever since he was a child. That incident with the cat had stayed with him for a long time; even Robert had been disgusted and appalled by his son's budding cruelty. So many incidents brushed over and hushed up... Perhaps he'd done something to the girl, to make her change her mind about the betrothal and throw her into the arms of the tall dark and dashing Theon Greyjoy._

_He wasn't blind, he could see that Theon was attractive; in fact with his own proclivities he was -shall we say- rather too qualified to see exactly what she would see in a handsome man even if he was personally spoken for._

_If she was already fond of him, it would be all too easy for it to happen._

Renly had to own that he had a certain amount of sympathy for the Stark girl _Could he really blame her for not wanting to marry Joffrey? If she had feelings for the Greyjoy lad currently languishing in Ned's dungeons for his temerity in absconding with his eldest daughter then she would be very hard to persuade._

_Why Robert seemed to think that he would be the one to be able to perform miracles he had no idea._

\-----  
"No one will listen. I've tried to tell them the truth, but it's like they refuse to hear. We were married by a septon in Seagard. We lived as man and wife, humble but happy, and he loves me, I know he does." Sansa pleaded with Lord Renly trying to win him over to their side.

They walked in the glass gardens giving them some opportunity to speak relatively privately although Septa Mordane stood guard at the entrance keeping watch over them, taking no chances since Sansa's disgrace.

“Sansa, you must understand people find it hard to believe you. Why would you risk so much?” he urged her.

“I had no choice, ser.”

“No choice but to run away and disappoint your family?”

She raised her chin in defiance. "Is that why they sent you here? Because I am a stupid little girl who doesn't know her own mind?" She asked.

He was disconcerted by her self-possession, her utter faith in Theon. "You are a girl of high-born family, engaged to a prince of the realm no less, you cannot dispose of yourself so!” he urged.

“And it would be a sin to break my vows now! My lord I am not doing out of mere stubbornness. I really can't marry Joffrey, I just can't.” she pleaded.

Renly stopped, watching her intently. “Why are you so adamant you will not have him? What did Joffrey do to you?”

She flinched and Renly knew that he was right on target. That little pustule! He thought savagely. I knew he would have been up to something. If only Robert had bothered to delve deeper into what was going on instead of passing judgement.

“He did do something didn't he? That's why you're so determined you will never submit to the will of your elders.”

She looked up at the young strikingly handsome lord. He seemed friendly and almost reasonable. Could she trust him with her explosive truth? She hadn't even dared tell her parents yet!

“There is a reason, isn’t there?”

“I...My lord-” she hesitated for a moment wavering in her decision to trust caught between her impulse to unburden herself and her caution.

“You can trust me, Lady Sansa.” he took her hands in his and looked her earnestly in the eyes. “Confide in me...Why can you not accept Joffrey? Why are you so determined to stay with Theon?”

She decided to take the plunge. She was going to have to reveal the truth soon. How much longer could she hide her condition? 

Despite her lacing, the curve of her belly was starting to show and it would only get more obvious as the days and weeks passed.

“I'm pregnant, Lord Renly. Theon and I-” the words spilled out of her mouth, as if it were a relief to utter them. “- we're going to have a child.”

“What!” his mouth fell open in shock but he didn't turn away in disgust at her disgraceful secret. She fancied she spotted more than a little compassion in his blue eyes.

“Please tell me you are joking, Lady Sansa? Gods, you've done it now, haven’t you?” he shook his head. “You poor foolish girl-”

“I do not jape. Not about this. Theon is my husband and I am carrying his child.” she reaffirmed.

“Gods, what a mess.” Renly couldn't help but feel pity for the girl. 

“I did no wrong. When it happened we were wed and I am his wife. Don't you see, Lord Renly? I can't abandon him now.”

"You are absolutely determined to stay with Theon, aren't you?"

"Do you blame me?"

He looked at this girl, steadfast and proud in the face of overwhelming odds that would have cowed a lesser girl and slowly shook his head.

"Is there any hope for Theon and I?" she asked. “Do you think Father will bend? The king will change his mind and break the contract with Joffrey?”

He sighed. He couldn't believe he was about to do this, Robert and Cersei would be seething when they found out but it was the right thing to do. "If the Greyjoys can be contacted and they will accept you and Theon as a couple then maybe the family could open re-negotiations with yours.” 

“That is, if Joffrey is prepared to let you go.” He added hastily seeing her face light up for the first time since the couple returned to Winterfell in disgrace.

“We would need proof of this septon that you said married the both of you. It's all highly irregular but if there was proof-"

"I can get you proof. If you could send a letter for me, ser.”

“You know I can't do that.” he said, shaking his head sorrowfully.

“Ser, Please!” her beautiful blue eyes welled up and her shoulders started to shake. Renly patted her back delicately, awkwardly trying to comfort the weeping maid.

"I have no one to turn to but you. No one will listen. I couldn't be with Joffrey; I'd rather be dead than be his. Please. I'm trying so hard to be strong, but-"

Renly pitied the couple if he were honest and if any one understood hopeless love, it was he. How many lies had he been forced to tell to stay with his Loras despite the odds? 

He leant close, his voice low so Septa Mordane could not hear. "I promise you nothing."

She stared at him with startled blue eyes scarcely daring to hope. "My Lord?" she stammered.

"My page Mathis will go to Seagard in the morning. You say you were wed-"

"In a sept by the docks, The windows were broken-" She whispered back. "Near the Trout and Boots-"

He nodded. "Mathis is a resourceful lad. He can find what you seek."

\-----

Jeyne slipped the key into the palm. It lay cold and iron in the palm of her hand tempting her to go and see her beloved.

“Your father would probably have my head if he ever found out I lifted the spare key from the turnkey. But you said you were desperate to see Theon one more time...”

Sansa was touched by her best friend's loyalty. Jeyne had taken a great risk to give this to her so she could see her beloved and she would not forget it.

"Thank you!" she said, her eyes shining with the start of unshed tears she blinked trying to disperse them. "You are the best friend anyone could ever have!"

She headed towards the brig cloaked in one of Jeyne's old cloaks. If she were caught out of her room and especially heading towards the prisoner in the brig the consequences didn't even bear thinking about. 

She slid the key into the lock, praying it would work and she wouldn't get caught..

"Theon?" she whispered.

He was awake at once. "What are you doing here? It's too dangerous."

She flew to his side covering his unshaven face with kisses. 

He wanted to wrap her in his arms, she must be cold in only her nightgown in the unheated cell.

"I had to see you. Oh Theon, Joffrey is still determined to marry me, and father will not relent. They all refuse to listen to reason. I tried to tell them-"

"About us?"

"If they knew the truth then they wouldn't try to marry me off any more. They would know that I am yours, body and soul."

There was a part of him that still revelled in her words and the strength of her love for him which was unbroken despite all their travails, and a very practical part that knew that Lord Eddard would be furious with him for marrying his eldest daughter his treasure without his consent.

“I promised to be yours and that still holds true no matter what happens.”

“Through Storm and Spring.” her fingers interlinked with his as a symbol of their love which remained unbroken. “My love, I have something to tell you...”

“What, dearheart? Why did you risk everything to come here in secret?”

She put her hand on belly and Theon knew. A part of him was exhilarated that they had a child, an heir for his line, a part of him and her growing and living within her, the other realised that things had got a lot more complicated and dangerous.

_Oh gods, if Lord Stark finds out I've got his daughter with child..._

_They'll send her to the Silent Sisters or make her drink tansy. Lord Stark and the king will never forgive our transgression._

“You're having my child?”

She nodded, looking apprehensive. “You aren't angry, are you?”

“Angry? Of course not!” he cupped her face in his free hand and kissed her deeply, silently expressing all the love he could not tell her any more day by day.

Oh sweetling, inside I am the happiest of men, that we made an heir for the Isles. A babe of our own, yours and mine but now we're in terrible danger. I need you to be braver than ever. Can you do that?"

"Yes, I can. I promise you. I-" she hesitated wondering how to tell him of what she knew and what she'd said to Lord Renly. "I spoke to Lord Renly. He might help us-"

"Why?" Theon asked. "What would be in it for him?"

She nudged him earnestly. "He sympathises with us. He understands and he dislikes Joffrey as we do. He can help us find the septon." 

Theon had trouble following her logic for the moment. "I'm sorry...what?"

"The septon! The septon who married us. If we can prove we are wed then we could negotiate with your family. We could stay together!"

It was a fragile hope but it was all they had right now. He held her close, trying not to get his hopes up but failing. _Gods, if only it could work!_

"Sansa, dearheart, you have to go soon. I don't want for your father's guards to catch you here." he warned her before the guards returned and caught them together.

She pressed her mouth to his once more in a desperate kiss. "I don't want to leave you, Theon. I need you."

Theon sighed, his fingertips trailing over her lips and jaw tenderly. "I know."

\-----

Jeyne was on Raven duty that day so she untied the messages from the birds that had arrived that morning and sorted then according to the recipient. 

Three for Lady Catelyn, Five for Lord Ned, a rose scented one from the Reach for Lord Renly, and one sealed with the great red wax seal of the Lannisters.

Jeyne was sorely tempted to read the contents of the Lannister's scroll. She would have to be careful; if she was caught she would be in a whole lot of trouble. It was scarcely worth thinking about. But she had to risk it, for Sansa's sake.

Before she could over think it, she slid the knife underneath the seal and prised off the message carefully.

Jeyne's eyes widened as she read the message enclosed. Things were becoming more complex by the moment. Lord Tywin wrote of making sure that the Starks were as indebted to the Lannisters as the royal family. Of using Lady Sansa and her position as the prince's bride to persuade them to take on loans at an extortionate rate, that Lord Eddard would never have a chance of being able to repay.

Like it or not, she was involved now. At least she knew and now Sansa would know exactly why the Lannisters were so keen to ally themselves with their family and pressing for the wedding. 

\-----

## Ned

Ned heard a knock at his door as he sat in his private office. He was up late burning the tallow candles low, still worrying about the ramifications of his daughter's unlikely rebellion and his ward's disloyalty. 

How was he going to handle this? With Robert and Cersei still keen on the match with the Prince and the scandal that would result if what happened became common knowledge, he was in a real bind and the situation threatened to get a whole lot worse. He pushed back the heavy dark hair from his face, groaning under his breath as he did so. 

_God preserve me from headstrong daughters and wards who overreach themselves!_

"May I come in, my Lord?" a timid female voice said from the door.

Ned sighed. "Of course, child. Come in. What can I do for you?" 

The maid looked round nervously. She wrung her hands, fretting about her daring in coming to see the lord. "My lord, I have something to admit to you. In confidence."

_In confidence? What was this?_

Ned had enough sense to encourage her to talk. She looked as she had screwed up all her courage to talk to him and he'd prided himself all his life on being a fair and approachable lord. “Of course. Anything you tell me will be in confidence. Please come in and sit down-”

She took a deep breath, preparing herself to admit the truth. She settled in her seat, her feet swinging far off the ground. "Lord Eddard, I know what happened between your daughter and Theon Greyjoy. I know why she refuses Joffrey." She clutched the packet of cloth in her hands as if it were a lifeline.

Ned blinked. This was the last thing he was expecting to hear- from the mouth of a child no less!

"Tell me everything. From the beginning." he said gravely.

"On their last visit, when his Grace proposed the match between Lady Sansa and the prince. ..." she stopped as if not sure how to say what she must. she started again, aware of Lord Eddard's frown.

"Prince Joffrey... it's terrible to admit it but he is not a good person. Lady Sansa was willing to do her duty but after he accosted her, she could not-”

“Accosted her?” _Damn her, he wished she would speak plain!_

"He was determined to have her, encouraged by his mother."

“When you say 'have her' what do you mean?” he asked sharply. He did not like the sound of this. Not one bit. _If Joffrey has done something..._

Venna bit her lip, shooting an anxious look at the door as if she still feared being discovered. "I know Lady Sansa didn't want you told, but enough damage has been done. You have to understand why you can't allow his Grace to marry her, not now."

"Did she put you up to this? Tell me true." Ned asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Venna looked up at him with terrified eyes. "Lady Sansa doesn't know I'm here. Pray the Gods she never finds out. She wouldn't like me talking of this-"

“Please speak plain, 'tis important!”

"Joffrey tried to force her before the betrothal and Theon found out. There was a fight-" she squeaked in fright as if terrified that Joffrey would catch her talking of things she ought never to have witnessed. "I saw him dragging her towards the stables and I...well I followed them. I'm sorry, I meant no harm m'lord I swear it!"

"A fight, Venna?” Ned tried hard not to focus on the horror of Joffrey forcing himself on his daughter. "What else did you see?"

"He struck her. She tried to get away. I couldn't move. I was so scared he'd see me-" she stifled a scared sob. 

Ned had trouble coming to terms with all this. "When did this happen?" he asked.

“Do you remember when the prince was all bruised and beaten and he wouldn't say who had waylaid him?”

Ned remembered all too well. He'd had his suspicions but Joffrey had refused to admit who'd beaten him up, claiming that he'd fallen down a flight of stairs. _Yet, how would he have got a black eyes and no bruises on his lower body and legs if that was the case?_

Ned was shocked. He dreaded to think what would happen if Theon had attempted to strike the prince. _But then what if he only done it to defend his daughter?_

“What proof do you have of all this, child?”

Lady Sansa wanted this destroyed , but I kept it m'lord. She doesn't know. She swore m'lord Greyjoy to secrecy, begged him to take 'er away before you all forced her to wed the prince."

Ned didn't know what to say. "Let me see, Venna-" 

Venna opened the package on her lap. Ned recognised one of Sansa's dresses, a madder red wool dress he hadn't seen her wear in a few months. He had thought to ask her what had happened to it when he noticed the long rip in the bodice. The dress was completely spoiled. Ned knew the truth in a blinding terrible flash. _It was the truth, Venna has told him the truth!_

Venna flushed, terrified of how her master would react. “There was a letter. Umm, they said it was from the prince-”

“I'll take that.” Ned took the letter as well, scanning it and getting more and more angry at the truth admitted in it. He couldn't deny it to himself. It was all there, in pen and ink in the prince's own hand.

_He attacked her....Joffrey was determined to have her...._

_I know why she refuses Joffrey...._

Ned felt sick at the thought of what his girl had undergone. He even started to think a little better of Theon for stepping in and avenging Sansa's honour.

“Venna, you were very brave to come and tell me this. You did the right thing.” he told the scared maid as gently as he could.

“I did?” she gazed up at her master with big dark eyes.

“Yes.” Ned sighed. Now things had got a lot more complex. He knew about Joffrey and what had gone on behind his back, what was he going to tell Cat and the king? How would he handle this new trial? “You can go back to your duties now.”

Venna bobbed a curtsey and scurried away before he could change his mind.

"What shall I do? I should have listened to her. She tried to tell me but I didn't want to hear it. How could Joffrey have done this?” Ned fretted as he talked to Cat that night. He'd had to tell her, though he worried how she would take the news that Joffrey had attacked their daughter.

 _The spoiled venal little brat!_ Every time Ned thought about Joffrey laying hands on his daughter a cold shot of rage went through him. _He's lucky that he's a crown prince, or I would have his head for what he dared. And for him to piously stand there and say to everyone that he would accept her despite her sins. How dare he act the hypocrite!_

"She told no one of this. Why did she feel that she couldn't confide in her own family?" Ned fretted.

Cat looked up at her husband, her face stricken. "She didn't trust us to help her. She turned to Theon instead. No wonder he was able to seduce her into running away with him." 

The knowledge sat heavy with both of them. _How well did they they know their darling daughter? What could have made her throw away everything to be with that young man, despite the consequences?_

"Perhaps she really does love him. They always been fond of each other, although Septa Mordane and I tried hard to discourage it. I thought we'd cured her of such notions-"

"I know you tried Cat, I hold you blameless in all this." Ned tried to reassure his wife.

“We have the Boltons challenging our authority at every turn. We simply cannot afford to forfeit the royal goodwill.”

“Cat we may be faced with a choice which destroys our daughter’s hope of happiness. If I don't obey the King and abide by his judgement.” Ned didn't even have to utter the rest of the sentence. The implication was already there.

"Gods, give us strength to do what we must." Cat laid her hand on her husband's arm seeking to comfort him.

Sansa was dreading having to reveal her condition to her parents. _They already didn't believe that Theon married her. What would they say once they found out that she was carrying his baby? It had to be done, she could put it off no longer. The curve of her belly was close to betraying her condition to the world. There would be no hiding it in a week or two._

“Father, Mother I went to see Maester Luwin-” she started. _This had to be the hardest thing she had ever done. Mother would be so ashamed and disappointed in her. She wasn't sure how her father would react but his wrath while rarely directed at her was fearsome._

“Why you're not ill, are you?” Ned met Catelyn's eyes and the pieces all fell into place. They knew exactly what had happened to their wayward daughter.

“Oh Gods, tell me it's not true- you didn't. He didn't-”

Sansa didn't know what to say. She lowered her head wishing and hoping for some sort of forgiveness though she knew she didn't really deserve it. “I'm sorry.” She could feel the tears start to well up. "I'm so sorry for everything-"

“Seven Hells, how could things get any worse?-” Ned went pale."You're with child?" Even as he voiced his disbelief, he could hear the landlord's statements....Swiving twice, sometimes thrice a night. If she was anything like as fruitful as Cat he shouldn't not have been surprised at all.

Cat pleaded with her daughter unable to come to terms with the disaster she had just presented to them. “No Sansa, please tell me you are mistaken; you didn't let him debauch you?”

She bit her lip guiltily bowing her head.

“How many months?” Ned questioned, trying to establish facts.

“I-I don't know for certain, maybe two-”

Cat gritted her teeth, furious at Theon. “I am going to string that lad up by his heels and hang him off the castle walls!”

“No please Mother, Father...we were wed when we- I know what we did was wrong to marry without your permission, but-”

“He stole you from us and treated you like one of his doxies. Sansa, you could have been a queen if you'd just accepted Joffrey. How could you throw that all away?”

“She couldn't have accepted Joffrey, and that's an end to it.” Ned said firmly.

Cat tried to be practical in the face of this disaster, she shot Ned a questioning glance but he refused to budge. “Well, it's a couple of months...Septa Mordane will prepare some tansy and everything will be back to normal.”

Sansa set her chin, stung to defiance. She'd fight to the death for her child. _Their child._ she told herself with new determination. “I'm sorry but I'm not drinking tansy.”

 

\------

"I cannot tell you how sorry I am, your Graces. This whole situation has not turned out well-" Ned started. He'd never been more humiliated in his life, but he had to do this, he had no choice.

“What do you want, Ned?”

Ned drew himself up, ready to plead for his family's well-being. He had to at least try. “I would ask that the agreement between our families be terminated. We tear up the contract. If you require a penalty Cat and I would pay it. We know that this entire situation is our fault.”

It was humiliating but Ned had to shoulder his share of the blame.

Cersei smirked at Robert's side enjoying Ned's discomfort. “Yes, we do require a penalty.” she gave him an icy look, which told Ned there would be little hope of mercy from Robert, not with her causing trouble next to him.

“Your daughter broke her vow to Joffrey. She ran off with your ward. She claims she married him- how can she have disposed of herself so recklessly? Rutted with him so shamelessly?”

“Our son still wants her, you know.” Robrt added, not making the situation any better.

Ned knew he would have to admit that Sansa was with child or the situation would get even worse. Robert and Cersei were going to be furious when they found out. What a mess!  
\-----

Ned resolved to get King Robert alone and have a private talk to him, hoping he could persuade him for the sake of their long friendship to dissolve the contract without any further dire consequences.

_Surely things have gone too far? We cannot marry Joffrey and Sansa, not now_ Ned asked himself.

_Maybe, just maybe we can salvage the situation, if the king is prepared to be reasonable._

Robert shuffled awkwardly, reluctant to refuse his best and oldest friend. “No can do, Ned. My Queen utterly insists on it. Says that the prince will have no other but her. He'll have her even now, disgraced or not.” 

Robert noticed Ned's stony face. “What Ned? I would have thought you'd be pleased!”

Ned said nothing not believing Robert's wilful blindness.

“Of course she's hurt her own cause here by sleeping with the Greyjoy lad. That was not very clever on her part for sure. She doesn't know how lucky she is."

Ned silently resented that remark, this coming from the man proud of his ability to 'make the Eight', a man who hadn't been faithful to his queen for one day of his marriage and probably for all his protestations of love would have cheated on Lyanna as soon as breathing.

“This isn't about ambition, this is about the happiness of my daughter.” he at last gritted out coldly.

“And your family name, don't forget that.”

“Cersei is pressing to have you sued for breach of promise. She won't rest until you pay a fine for the broken engagement.”

“We'll pay if that's what needed.” Ned said stiffly.

“She seeks to beggar you, I hope you realise that Ned-" Robert shook his head. "The only thing that will pay for this insult to our house is gold or blood.

Ned groaned. This was what he had been trying to avoid. It was starting to seem as if this royal betrothal was nothing but a curse. He wished he hadn't accepted Joffrey and his father's proposal which had caused nothing but trouble.. _All this wouldn't have happened had I accepted Theon's attempt to court her._


	8. The Kraken Awakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What Theon's family think of the drama and how their arrival affects things at Winterfell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first part of a longish sequence about the trial, things are going to get pretty heated from here on in. Conflict ahoy! 
> 
> The weapon mentioned is a little bit like the famed 'dark fire' of legend. As they mine for Iron on the Isles the idea is they found some minerals and metals that when combined have this effect. A fearsome weapon in the hands of Balon Greyjoy and his like. The stakes are raising even further...

## Pyke

Asha Greyjoy strode away from the rookery at Pyke Castle, scrolls in hand. It wasn't often they got ravens from the mainlands, especially ones marked as personal and urgent in an unfamiliar hand. She recognised the seal though, which was why she was puzzled by the missive. 

_What is a Baratheon doing writing to father? Writing to me?_

She tapped on the door of her father's office. Balon was sat by the fire staring into the dying flames as if they had personally offended him. Victarion sat by his side drinking deep from his horn of dark ale.

“Father?” she called, hoping to rouse him from his reverie. “Nuncle, hail met.”

Balon turned to her, mouth pulled into a bitter and petulant frown. “What do you want. Oh, it's you Asha lass. Come to make a report, have ye?”

She handed him his scroll. “Not this time, my lord. Ravens from the mainland. Marked urgent.”

Balon's face scrunched up, mightily unimpressed by the mention of his enemies. “What the arse do they want?”

“No idea, father. Let's find out-” She shrugged, cracking open her scroll and frowning over the contents. Her eyebrows raised as she read further and further shaking her head in disbelief. 

_What a mess had just been dumped on her doorstep. Trust her younger brother to be neck-deep in the entire business!_ “Stupid boy!” she muttered under her breath. “Foolish love-struck boy!”

“A bloody uppity Baratheon, writing to me? What do they want now?” he grumbled, scowling at the parchment. “What's this one called? Lord Renly Baratheon of Storm's End? Ne'er heard of him!”

“He wasn't there during the sack of Pyke-” Victarion affirmed.

“He's styling himself 'Master of Laws' here. He seems to be younger than Robert and Stannis. A mere fawn-”

“Whatever the little bugger's done, it's nothing to do with us. They've no proof so they can't pin anything on us for a change!” Balon grouched.

She scanned the parchment, starting to plan and make notes. Victarion leaned over her shoulder, reading the parchment. 

“Theon's got himself into a spot of bother by the sounds of things-” he remarked.

Balon frowned, hating to be reminded of the son he'd lost in his defeat. His last son, a warprize for the Stark to gloat over.

“He stole Lord Eddard's daughter from the Crown Prince. According to this, they ran away from Winterfell and got to Seagard. They were trying to get here.”

“Why? What are we going to do with him?” Balon grouched. “He's Stark's now, not mine-”

Her father was determined to not acknowledge the boy in any way, whatsoever. Normally this would have suited her down to the ground, after how hard she'd worked to be respected on the Isles. The last thing she wanted was the long lost heir coming back and displacing her, after all her hard work. But there was a paragraph in Renly's missive that changed everything and made her consider the larger picture.

_**The girl is with child already, but if Theon loses his trial and his life, the child will be born a bastard...Cersei talks of secretly doctoring her food with tansy and pennyroyal. Catelyn Stark refuses, but how long can she resist the Queen for?**_

 _That's our heir in danger, we must do something! ,_ She thought.

“The girl is wed to him, Father, wed by a septon in the sight of their Gods. This Lord Renly says she's already pregnant.” she told him.

Balon's head went up, piqued by her words. He re-examined his scroll, the gleam of intrigue sparking in his eyes.

“Pregnant? You're sure, Asha?”

“Perhaps the boy isn't so useless after all-” Victarion started to laugh long and hard. “A child, already!”

“If she's Ned Stark's lass she'll have Tully blood in her. They're known for their fire-kissed hair, beauty and fruitfulness. No wonder she's pregnant already.” Balon laughed with his brother, grimly amused by the subject. “He must have been ploughing her night and day to have planted a kraken in her belly already!” 

“Stole Ned Stark's daughter from under his nose, that must have been enough to make the Old Wolf spit!”

“Go to your Uncle Rodrik and tell him the news, I'm sure he would like to know, and then sail to the mainland with all haste to secure the child by any means. Victarion shall have your back, as my right-hand. As for me, I'll call a moot.”

Asha was surprised he was going to take some action and assign her to her brother's cause, but then there was the child to think of. “A moot, Father?”

Balon's smile was wicked. “Aye, lass. I think this would be an admirable time to demonstrate the capabilities of our newest weapon-craft, don't you?”

Asha did not like the sound of this. The weapon was perilous to wield, two ships had already been lost testing it on the far side of Ironman's Bay. 

_As long as she lived she would never forget the screams of the men on the Windrider as the ship hit a half-submerged rock and careered into one of the treacherous whirlpools that occasionally appeared near their home. The ship and the sea around it turned into a ball of silver flame that burned bright and terrifying even on the water. All those men and a goodly ship lost to the cruel flame...._

“This is no weapon to use lightly. 'Tis a last terrible resort-” she found herself saying.

“I don't want you to take a full cargo's worth, Asha! Just enough to do a small demonstration – a small vial will do.” Balon's gaze was ruthless. “The Greenlanders have to know we mean business. We must have that heir and the girl-”

Asha sighed, knowing her father was bent on this display of defiance. She knew how much damage even a small vial of the substance could do. “By any means, Father.”

## Harlaw

Asha sailed that morning to Harlaw accompanied by her Uncle Victarion. They had to plan exactly what they were going to do. How would they solve this problem and come out with a satisfactory result for the Isles?

 

Rodrik was at the harbour unloading a cargo from abroad. He greeted his niece and good-brother with a wave. “Hail! What bring you both here so early?”

Asha saluted her uncle, with the first smile she'd used in a while. “Nuncle, have we time to talk? In private?”

“This sounds ominous-” he observed. “Victarion too...very well. Come up to the castle and we'll find out what's going on.” 

 

Rodrik did not like the sound of the tale that his niece was spinning for him. He frowned as Victarion paced restlessly in front of him and Asha kept talking, showing him the scroll.

“On trial for his life?”

“Stark caught them at Seagard and dragged the guilty couple back to Winterfell. Of course the fool felt honour bound to inform the king and the prince of his daughter's shame.” Asha curled her lip at the thought.

“A bad business, aye-” 

“The Royal family went straight back there to interrogate him. This Renly writes that the prince will not relinquish the girl, but she resists still. She swore she was wed to Theon and now she has confessed to a child.”

“So the girl shows a bit of spirit, eh?” mused Victarion. “Not bad for a Greenlander lass.”

“We'll have to speak to her too if we can have access, find out exactly what went on. Perhaps she is the key to our defence-” Rodrik mused. “Can I leave that to you, Asha?”

She saluted, accepting his request. “Of course, Nuncle. We sail by ten of the clock. Will ye be ready?”

“Aye, I must gather my legal books and documents, as many as I can get on the ship.”

“Will we have time for light reading, Nuncle?”

“Asha, this is vital. Theon is on trial for his life. I doubt he'll get a fair one if the king is in charge of it – not when his son is involved. He will need proper legal representation. People on his side. I won't let them take our boy once more.”

## Winterfell

Ned was feeling the strain of the situation more and more. Sansa was refusing to take the herbs which would at least preserve her reputation. There had been an unpleasant and distressing scene as Cat and Septa had tried to persuade her to do the right thing and take the tincture that Maester Luwin had secretly prepared for her. Sansa had refused to even consider it, even under pressure. At last worn down by her tears and defiance Ned had let the situation be.

The royal family were enjoying the power that they had over them, Cersei and Joffrey in particular. Robert would not bend. He almost seemed to take Sansa's lapse from virtue as a personal insult. He muttered darkly about brides being stolen away by rogues and faithless women who abandoned their matrimonial vows and duty without a second glance. 

It hurt and angered Ned, but he was in a bad position and could hardly argue the point, not when he knew that worse was to come when Sansa's secret came to light. 

Gods help him, all he had ever wanted was the best for his girl and everything was falling apart. Robert would not be understanding, not like Renly who had confidentially confessed to sending a man to Seagard to investigate Sansa's claims she was wed by a septon. Ned knew Robert brooded on Lyanna's fate and the humiliating fact that she had disappeared with Rhaegar Targaryen, discarding their betrothal. The parallels were too clear and uncomfortable to ignore.

 _How much more can I take, ye gods?,_ Ned thought in sorrow. How much more?

 

He was heading out to the courtyard when he felt a tug at his sleeve. He looked down to find a pale-faced Jeyne Poole worriedly biting her lip. She was shaking, looking incredibly nervous and jumpy. 

_What could have possibly happened now?_ He thought, How could things get any worse?

“My lord, can I speak to you in private? It's urgent-”

Thinking of the last time a servant-girl had confided in him and revealed Joffrey's actions towards his girl he mutely followed her into a storeroom.

“What is this all about?” he asked. “Does anything ail my daughter?”

Jeyne shook her head. “No, my lord she has morning nausea but other than that she is well and healthy.” She looked around as if terrified she might be seen or reprimanded. 

“Well, something must be wrong. Out with it, Jeyne. I have nay time for this-”

“If I tell you, do you promise not to be angry with me, my lord?” she said in a rush.

Ned didn't much like the sound of this.

“What has happened now?” he said with some urgency.

She held out a scroll. Ned noticed the big red seal of the Lannisters dangling from the parchment. 

What had the girl done now?

“Please ser, I know what I did was wrong and you'd be in the right of it to dismiss me, but it's about us- I mean the Starks. You must read this, you and Lady Catelyn.”

Ned was appalled that Jeyne was confessing to tampering with other people's mail, let alone royal mail. What had possessed her to do something so rash and uncharacteristic? “Child, what have you done? You can't go round reading other people's mail. It is a terrible breach of trust.”

“They mean to bankrupt you!” she burst out desperately. “That's why the Queen was so keen for Sansa to marry the prince. Why she insists on the match, even now. Lord Tywin was going to use your relationship to the royal family to get you to take out loans-”

“The North doesn't need loans. We are self-sufficient and I don't believe in getting into debt for no reason. Neither a borrower or lender be-”

“They would put pressure on you to take out a loan to Casterley Rock to pay for the wedding and the privilege of making a royal match with the future king, with extortionate rates of interest you would never be able to pay back.”

Ned listened, scanning the scroll. He might not approve but Jeyne had taken a big risk for the sake of her liege-lords. They needed to know exactly what the Royal family and Cersei had planned for them.

“Leave this with me. I will tell Lady Catelyn immediately.”

“You aren't angry with me, my lord?”

“No lass, I'm not. Not now. Pray they never find out we intercepted their mail, or there'll be hell to pay. And if you happen to hear any other plans the queen may have against my family...”

“I swear I will inform you right away, my lord.” she assured him bobbing a curtsy.

 

 

The arrival of his sister and his formidable Uncle Victarion Greyjoy from the Isles proved to make things that much more complicated. They were certainly not going to stand aside and allow Theon to be punished.

Ned could see that this threatened to be the start of yet another vicious blood feud, and now they were trapped in the middle.

“Lady Asha Greyjoy of Pyke. I and my party request an audience with Lord Stark if it please you-” She announced boldly, riding up to the gates of the castle to be admitted. “D'ye grant us entrance to your halls, Stark?” there was no mistaking the taunt in her voice. “-or will you keep my brother in chains?”

The pennants fluttered behind them in the breeze, the gold Kraken on a black field and the scythe of the Harlaws.

“What do we do? Do we admit them?” Cat fretted. “What do they want here?” 

“They heard of the scandal.”

“But how?”

Ned suspected he knew all too well, how they had found out and he was inwardly torn about the result. Part of him deplored Lord Renly's interference and wondered just how his daughter had managed to persuade him to aid her instead. Renly had suggested he could talk sense into the girl, but somehow she'd managed to convince him that right was on her side. 

The other half had felt bad that Theon was on trial for his life, against the royal family who were heavily involved in his crime and unlikely to be impartial. Perhaps Renly's actions was just levelling the playing field.

Remember, you know what Joffrey did to your girl. Is he about to get away with his crime and Theon to be punished?

Jory and Ser Rodrik hovered waiting for Ned to give him the command.

Ned sighed. Whatever happened he would have to handle it with grace and hope that things did not take a turn for the worse. The Greyjoy girl's face looked as if she were spoiling for a fight, and Victarion stood grim-faced behind her, his hand on his sword. “We can hardly refuse them entry now.”

“Why not? If they mean to bring conflict into our halls, you have every right to refuse them, m'lord!-” Jory urged.

Ned shook his head. “Nay. Theon is on trial for his life right now. How will it look if we deny him the chance of having representation by his own people? Like it or not, we have to admit them.” 

“Aye and the lass knows it too. Hark at her face!”

Ned sighed, steeling himself for this new trial. “Ser Rodrik, open the gates, but be on your guard. I will talk to our new guests in person.”

 

Asha strode into the castle accompanied by Lord Rodrik Harlaw, another cringing cowed man in shabby septon's robes and her uncle the fearsome Victarion Greyjoy. Ned was surprised that he hadn't seen Balon himself, but he knew that Theon's father was a strange contrary man, prone to petty moods and long-nursed grudges. 

He had never forgiven Ned for taking his only living son from him, humiliating him in his own stronghold and making him bend the knee- that being said he'd shown little care or liking for the boy. 

Ned had always privately thought that he had done the lad a favour taking the lad from a rather toxic environment and giving him a chance to become a better man.

Asha wasted no time getting down to business. She's so remarkably like Balon, Ned thought as she faced him, far more than Theon is himself.

“Did your family put him up to this?” Ned asked her.

Asha laughed grimly, amused by the thought that they would have plotted this. “Us? D'ye think my father and my uncles would have wanted their son and heir to marry a Greenlander girl?”

He couldn't help rankling at the scorn in her voice. How these Iron Islanders wear their airs and graces despite the fact that have nothing! “Then why would he have done this? Why would he take my daughter?”

Asha shook her head. “Perhaps the poor fool fell in love with her, who knows?”

“If you do not support your brother, then why are you here? And why have you brought your uncles with you?”

Their presence was a silent threat that could not be ignored. The last thing Ned needed was for the conflict to turn physical. If they defied the will of the king, he might well have to pay the consequences. He was bound to uphold the law and Robert's judgement, couldn't Asha see that? He hoped she would be more reasonable than her father. But somehow the glint in her eye made him doubt it.

“I am here for the sake of my mother, Alannys Harlaw Greyjoy who simply wants her son back. You Greenlanders have kept him long enough. Hasn't he paid enough for my father's sins?”

“He stole my daughter and debauched her!” Ned protested.

Rodrik turned to Ned trying to find some common ground.

“Lord Stark, if you are willing, an arrangement can be made for your girl. The couple will have a living if they return to Harlaw, I promise, even if you have to disinherit her-"

“You would accept her, even after her shame?”

“Of course. We want our boy to be happy-” Rodrik told him. “- for my sister Alannys's sake, who loved her last son so desperately.”

Victarion was slightly less kind or sentimental, depending on one's point of view. “And of course we want that heir, let's not forget that.”

## Joffrey

Joffrey seethed as he idly waited for the trial to proceed. Now that Theon's kin had arrived and made things more complex it was no longer so cut and dried that he would get the result that he wanted. The Harlaws insisted on a proper defence for his rival and the old man Rodrik argued fiercely for his kinsman, arming himself with legal precedents and tomes. 

He suspected his uncle Renly of aiding him in secret but he couldn't prove it, merely complaining to his mother when whenever he had the chance.

Lord Stark almost seemed to be bending towards his position. He couldn't help but notice the coldness he had towards his suit. Something had changed recently. Joffrey fancied that the Northern lord looked on him with distrust and dislike. He certainly talked no more of marrying Sansa to him, or persuading her to do her duty.

Did he suspect what he had done to Sansa that day in the stable?

Joffrey conferred with his mother in his chambers. The Stark resistance to their plans was the main topic of conversation.  
“She's refusing to be mine, I know it, Mother. We'll never be able to persuade them now. She won't be my wife, or my doxy as she insists on her marriage to this Greyjoy!” he sulked in his mother's chambers.

Cersei listened to his complaints as she stroked his rumpled gold curls from his forehead. The Starks were slipping from their grasp. They were nowhere nearer getting them to accept the loans being offered by her father Tywin at extortionate interest. He would not be impressed at her failure to secure the North and get it under their financial stranglehold.

The Starks are far too independent, he'd told her when he tasked her with engineering the match. They own too much of the kingdom. They are almost a realm unto themselves. They don't need the Iron Throne. It simply won't do. You and Joffrey will have to get them back into the fold- by any means.  
So far the plot was not going as well as planned.

“My dear boy, I hesitate to give you this advice but extreme times call for extreme measures. If the Stark girl will not come to her senses and do her duty, then you'll have to expedite the process.”

Joffrey frowned. What was she going on about now? What clever diabolical scheme had she come up with now?

“Mother, you talk in circles-”

She gazed at him, challenging and unblinking. “What do you think I suggest, my son?”

“You have my blood in you, my son. A lion does not concern themselves with the opinions of the sheep, or the wolves and I daresay not a stag or kraken either. Take what you want and remove her resistance.”

Even he had trouble believing she could be so cold-hearted. “You think I should go to my lady's chamber at night, gain admittance and well...”

Her cold smile never reached her glittering green eyes. “-Finish what you started. She'll be hard pressed to refuse you if she's caught with you in a compromising position- and then Joffrey, we'll have them.” 

Joffrey smiled at his mother half admiringly, half appalled at her suggestion.

As Joffrey and his mother plotted they might have considered the presence of a maidservant outside the chamber as inconsequential. They didn't notice her hurry away as swift as possible to find Lord Eddard. Jeyne was taking no chances with the queen and crown prince, not now she knew they were bent on ruining the family she'd served since she was a child. She sped to find Lord Stark and Lady Catelyn to report her findings.


	9. The Scandal Breaks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Joffrey makes a clandestine visit to Sansa at night, Cat hears what happened to her daughter and the Starks try and get evidence against the Crown Prince. But no one reckoned on Robert's reaction to Sansa's secret.
> 
> Let's just say he doesn't take it too well....
> 
> Warnings for offensive language, prolonged threat of violence, violence towards women and lashings of melodrama and scandal. Earning that 'Bodice-Ripper' tag in earnest now!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have left you guys waiting for an unforgivable amount of time, mostly because I have managed to lose this blasted chapter a total of THREE times! Also I have kind of been trying to balance updating quite a few fics and it takes me quite a long time to get a chapter written to standard, so I hope you are still following this little tale and thank you if you are.
> 
> I think I had better reiterate the warning this is not going have a HEA by any means and you probably won't like Robert all that much after this chapter

## Jeyne

Jeyne headed towards the Lord’s chamber, hurriedly breaking into a run, hoping that she would be able to reach Lord Ned and Lady Catelyn in time. They had to hear of what the Queen and her son were planning for the Starks, and for Sansa in particular.

“Lord Stark?” she called, knocking on the door and gasping for breath, having run the length of the castle. “I have urgent news for you!”

Ned opened the door and peered out at the young handmaiden. “Jeyne, what is it?” he asked with a cautious look left and right. Satisfied that they were unobserved by any of the royal party, he let her in speak to him and his lady wife, aware that he had already ordered her to report to him if the situation got worse. Evidently it had.

“Should we get dressed for this?” Cat asked behind him with an anxious expression, draped in furs as she came to the door to find out what their handmaiden wanted so late at night, as if was most unlike her to disturb them once they had retired for the night, and Jeyne had been assigned to concentrate on serving Sansa.

“It’s important, m’lady and m’lord. I would not disturb you, ‘twas not so.” Jeyne pleaded.

“Jeyne? What is this?” Cat asked, “All this sounds most alarming?”

Jeyne was starting to gabble, she was in such a hurry to inform Lord Stark. “M’lord, you told me to inform you immediately if anything else happened, only-“

“Come in before the fire, and start from the beginning.” Ned told her, appreciating her loyalty to Sansa’s cause, little liking what new thing Jeyne could bring to them in their trouble.

“After our conversation about the seal, you told me to let you know if anything else happens.” Jeyne said, nodding eagerly as she told Lady Catelyn and Lord Stark her tale, “Well, I was attending the royal chambers, making sure that everything was presentable when I heard the prince and his mother talking.”

“You listened in to their conversation?” Cat asked.

“’Tis just as well she did. There is more to this, we must talk on it later.” Ned grasped her hand in a gesture Cat knew was seeking support from her. She gave him a quick worried look as if to ask him what new thing they were up against, but his face was grim. She decided not to press him here, sensing his preoccupation but she would have to know the truth. This news was not something he could keep from his wife.

“They were saying that Sansa was refusing to be his wife or his doxy-“

“His doxy?” Cat interrupted in horror at Joffrey’s crassness. As if they would give their daughter, however disgraced, to Joffrey as a mistress?

“That’s what the prince said!” Jeyne said earnestly. “-And then the queen told him that he should take extreme measures and remove her resistance.” 

“-remove her resistance?” Cat echoed.

“If she were caught with Joffrey, we wouldn’t be able to object any more.” Jeyne told them simply.

“He’s going to try and get into Lady Sansa’s chamber!” Cat exclaimed, realising the depth of Joffrey's plot against her daughter. No wonder she had publicly refused his offer to her at the trial.

“Aye m’lady, they seem most determined to do it!”

Ned frowned, thinking of how they were going to fight back against such a nefarious plot against his House. “We’ll keep a watch, outside and intercept him. This cannot and must not happen.”

Cat backed him up without question. “As far Jeyne and I are concerned, I think we should stay with Sansa and see what he has to say to her.”

"'Tis risky," Ned brooded.

“She doesn’t seem to want him anywhere near her.” Cat pondered. “She refuses his new offer to her outright, even though it would have salvaged her reputation by all accounts.”

Ned exhaled harshly as he answered her, she could see the tenseness in his jaw and how radically he had changed his viewpoint against the Prince’s suit. “I’m not surprised.”

“Why do you say that?” Cat was starting to get very worried about this. Ned obviously wanted to break some news to her, when Jeyne was away and she dreaded to think what new thing he had to break to her. Whatever it was, it seemed to be enough to change Ned’s attitude to Joffrey almost overnight.

“Do you think he would try it tonight, Jeyne. How much time do we have to come up with a counter-plan?” Ned asked her.

“He sounded as if he were very much in favour of her plot, but then again they have just come up with it. I just don’t know for sure, m’lord.”

Ned made a decision, they just could not risk having Sansa unguarded in the face of such a threat. “Jeyne, go and summon Lord Robb please. Ask him to come here to our solar as swift as may be.”

“Aye, m’lord!” Jeyne dashed off again, swift and neat as ever. 

* * *

As soon as Jeyne departed on her new errand, Cat steeled her self to talk to her husband. Something had happened, something horrendous in connection to her daughter and her disgrace and she felt like she did not know all the details.

“Ned, is there something that you’re neglecting to tell me?” she asked him. Cat knew by his hesitation to immediately unburden himself that it was bad, and he was trying his damnedest to shield her from the worst of it.

“Ned? Please tell me what is going on?” she pleaded with her husband, holding his hand in hers as she gazed at him with concern and love for this decent man in a position which no nobleman would envy. “Don’t keep me in the dark.”

Ned looked utterly burdened down by the stresses and strains of this entire situation. His shoulders slumped in defeat, worn down by the troubles he’d tried to shield her from. “Oh Cat-“

She wrapped her arms round him, giving him her silent support, no matter what became of their family, they were a unit. Her place was at his side, shouldering her fair share of his burden. How she wished she could lighten them for his sake.

“I am by your side through good and bad, you know that, don’t you?”

"Joffrey... I have had reports that he tried to attack Sansa. One of our maids came to me in secret, afraid to admit the truth but feeling guilty. She saw what happened and brought me proof I cannot dismiss."

"What proof?" Cat questioned sharply.

Ned got up and opened the chest at the bottom of their bed. Cat recognised one of Sansa's dresses in madder-red wool that she knew her daughter had not worn for a while.

"See where it is ripped, Cat? Joffrey did that. He attacked our girl!"

"He tried to--" Cat reeled in shock, hearing the grief and anger in Ned's voice.

“I fear very much that I have made a error of judgement and I don’t know if there is anything we can do to put it right.” Ned said wearily. "We should never have accepted the king's proposal for our girl. And now I have made everything worse by inviting the royal family back here and allowing them to try Theon."

"He's not going to get a fair trial, is he?" Cat laid her head on his shoulder.

Ned shook his head. "No, Cat, he's not, and now we have given them power over us, such terrible power. We are all in danger now."

* * *

“I can’t believe that he’s got the gall to be doing this.” Robb shook his head. The moment his parent had told him why the needed to follow the prince as soon as he left his chambers at night and follow him wherever he went, he knew that something was going on. Ever since the royal family had returned to Winterfell, and the trial of his old friend Theon had started his father had evidently had a change of heart.

“Joffrey thinks he can get away with this. To insult our House!”

“Surely he must know this is unacceptable. Attempting to reach her room?”

Ned suspected that Joffrey didn’t know at all, for all his years he’d been allowed to act as he pleased. Since he had never been told it was wrong he thought that his behaviour was perfectly acceptable.

“First, we must find out what he wants to say to Sansa. So for the moment we follow discreetly without him realising we know what he is up to.”

Robb was surprised by his father’s chosen tactic. “We are going to let him get to his destination, Father?”

Ned’s jaw tensed as if he didn’t much like the thought, but he knew his duty and had to see it through. “We have to catch him in the act so we cannot accost him just yet. We shall have to catch him on the way back, and then we can confront him with the evidence.”

“But what about?” Rob’s voice trailed away, not willing to countenance Joffrey attacking his sister for the second time.

“Sansa is accompanied by your mother and Jeyne. He won’t get past that tonight.”

* * *

##  Sansa

Sansa was getting ready for bed, Cat, Septa Mordane and her handmaiden waiting in her room. She had been warned that Joffrey was planning a night visit, and so she was ready for the eventuality. She couldn’t believe that he would dare to do something so underhand and shameful. But Jeyne and Cat seemed quite convinced that he was going to try it.

“Come on Sansa, open the door, just for a little?” she heard Joffrey’s voice wheedling her, and looked at her mother in alarm. Would she think that she had encouraged this outrageous abuse of their hospitality. The septa’s face was a mask of sheer disapproval as she heard a man lingering outside her charge’s door.

Cat nodded, her face grim as if she had expected him to appear. “Just as I thought!” she mouthed, getting the septa’s attention and urging her to be silent and observe, let Sansa do the talking. “I knew he couldn’t resist coming here after that!”

How could he have done this? Did he have no notion of how to behave? Sansa and her mother looked at each other, astonished that he would be so reckless.

As soon as she heard the voice through her door Sansa froze in horror. Cat and Jeyne could see that she was trembling at the awful leering tone of his voice through the crack in the door.

“Answer him, Sansa. Ask him what the hell he is doing here?” Septa Mordane whispered, “-he must think that you are alone, but do not open to him. Speak to him through the door.”

“Your Grace, you should not be here! What are you doing, my lord?” she stammered, sounding genuinely shocked and scared by his recklessness. Did he care nothing for her reputation which was low enough as it was? 

“But I came specially to see you!” he protested, shaking and wrenching the handle as if he was trying to force his way into the room. “Why won’t you open up? I just want to talk to you for a bit away from my parents, in private.”

“You can’t be here, your Grace. Please go back to your chamber, and we’ll forget that you came here.” She pleaded that he would come to his senses and not shame her like this.

“You don’t want to talk to me? Your betrothed?” Joffrey’s voice rose in demand. “You owe me that, at least!”

“We have nothing to say to each other.”

There was a thump against the door, as if he pushed against it. Sansa prayed that the bolt would hold. “What?” he hissed.

“I’m sorry for everything, my lord, but I should never have accepted your suit. It was unfair of me to do so.”

“You accepted my suit! You agreed to marry me and be my queen!”

She bowed her head in remorse, genuinely sorry to have hurt him. “I’m sorry. I should never have done it, for my hand and heart were not mine to give.”

“You keep saying that. Are you mad? You could be a princess, queen when I inherit and you’re going to refuse that? I told them all I would take you back, even though you have shamed yourself with that peasant Theon.”

“The price is too high, ser,” Sansa told him, “I cannot.”

“Why?” Joffrey was utterly baffled by her steadfast refusals. The thought that he would not instantly get his own way was a difficult concept for him.

“I am married to him now, as I said the first day of the trial. I could not marry you now, not even if I wanted, which I do not.”

“You ungrateful cunt!” He hissed, through his teeth. “Most women would be ashamed of the way you’ve treated me!”

The women looked at each other, shocked at the vile name he had called Sansa. Jeyne held her hand over her gaping mouth, eyes wide.

Joffrey was still ranting at Sansa, fuming at his lack of success. “You run off with a man no better than a pirate and a thief, spreading your legs for him, I have no doubt. You cock-teasing whore! No wonder he leapt to your defence!”

“My lord, you have no right to say such things!”

He was not even listening to her at this point. “I give you a chance to redeem yourself even thought you deserve it not, and you still flout me and refuse my hand.”

“You know why I would not.” She replied, stung by his insults. “I have not forgotten that day in the stables, and I never will.” Once he had not gotten his own way, the petulant spoilt side to his personality was coming out for all to see, Joffrey hated to be denied. "You hurt me!"

“Oh for Seven Hell’s sake, are ye still stewing about that? Alright, I was a little bit rough with you, but you must know that I was frustrated that you barely paid me any attention, even though we had honoured you with my hand.” Joffrey snapped, frustrated and annoyed that Sansa would not bend despite his cajoling.

“You ripped my dress and struck me!” she protested. “How could you think that I would ever meekly accept you after that? No ser, you should never have come here.”

“I’ll be back and next time you’d better have your door ready to welcome me.” Joffrey hissed, poison and malice seeping through the door like poisoned fumes. “Else that brother of yours, Bran, isn’t that his name? he might just have an accident, mightn’t he?”

“An accident?”

“Keep him talking if you can!” mouthed Cat silently next to her but Joffrey sounded as if he were finally moving away, having given her his ultimatum.

“Remember what I have said, my lady! Tomorrow night, your door open to me at this time or I shall make trouble for your lover, don’t doubt that I won’t!”

* * *

It took all Cat’s self-discipline not to say anything at that clear threat to her younger son, but she knew that they had to give the prince enough rope to hang himself metaphorically.

“Well, I never!” exclaimed Septa Mordane, shocked by the glimpse of the less pleasant side of the prince’s personality. “Came here, as bold as you please, threatening and swearing. No wonder you were showing reluctance to marry him. I frankly am starting to see why!” 

“What do we do now?” Sansa said worriedly.

Cat considered the situation she went to Sansa’s desk and scribbled a note on a bit of parchment. “Jeyne take this and find Lord Stark and Lord Robb before they get to Joffrey. We have a change of plan.”

“Aye, my lady!” the handmaiden bobbed a curtsey and scampered off, leaving Sansa alone with her mother and the Septa.  
“Septa Mordane, do you mind if you give me a moment alone with my daughter?” Cat asked.

"Of course, my lady, I'll be right outside if you need me-" she told her mistress and exited the room, still shakking her head and chuntering over the events of the night so far. 

“I never knew what he was truly like. No wonder you didn’t want to marry him, Sansa.” She said eventually after she had left. 

Jeyne had already slipped out of the room scurrying down the servant’s pathways to find Ned and report to him what they had heard, armed with a scrap of parchment with Cat’s instructions on it.

“What do we do now? Joffrey is heading back to his chambers. He plans to return here tomorrow night, eager to get his own way.” Cat sat on the bed, indicating for her daughter to join her.

“He threatened Bran. I can’t believe he would do that. He’s lost his mind, mother. Why would he come here and say such things?”

“What happened in the stable, Sansa?” her mother asked.

She went red and fidgeted, clearly unwilling to talk, but Cat knew that something had happened.

“Something did happen, didn’t it?” she urged her daughter with a sympathetic gentleness that humbled the younger woman.

“He attacked me, in the stable. I didn’t mean to get caught with him. He deceived me into following him here, and then we were alone and he wouldn’t let me go.”

“He kept pressing me, and saying terrible things to me when I refused. He struck me across the face. There was a struggle and he ripped my dress.”

“Is it true? He dared lay hands on you? Gods, why did you never say something of what he was capable of?”

“I tried, but I couldn’t say it. I was ashamed and scared, so scared! Theon saved me, when he burst in and hit him, I was so thankful, so grateful. I knew he loved me and he wouldn’t let any harm come to me.”

“Did you really care for one another?” Cat asked her.

Sansa bit her lip, looking at her mother, willing her to understand why she had acted as she had, her eyes brimming over at the thought of her absent husband. “Aye, mother. I am sorry to disappoint you, Mother, as I know you never thought much of him, but I loved him, for a long time. I asked him to ask Father for my hand and he was refused. Everything was so hopeless and when Joffrey offered for my hand, Theon was so unhappy, we both were, for we knew it was all over, but we couldn't let go.”

Cat was silent, acknowledging the bitter truth that she had known for a long time but not wanted to. No matter what she and Septa Mordane had done to discourage this unsuitable relationship they had never been able to break their infatuation with each other. Perhaps they really did love each other, after all.

“I tried to do my duty to the family and accept Joffrey and forget my love, but after Joffrey did that, I just couldn’t do it.” Sansa admitted, baring her soul. "I've failed everyone, failed my House and yet I... Theon and I all we ever wanted was each other, and now I carry his heir under my heart. How can I let that go?"

Cat shook her head, her hand lay on her daughter's shoulder giving her a quiet and tangible support. “I never pressed you that day, when you said you didn’t want to marry him. I thought it was just nerves, or an infatuation with Theon you would not let go.”

“I begged him to take me away from here. To marry me, so we could never be parted again. We tried to get to the Isles where we would have been safe, but we ran out of money and no matter how hard we worked to get enough, we couldn’t persuade anyone to take us for less than forty silver stags.”

“I have failed you, Sansa.” Cat said heavily.

“No, mother-“ Sansa started to say, but Cat was not to be deflected.

“You should have been able to confide in us--to trust that we, your family, would be able to protect from the likes of Joffrey, and yet you could not. You had to resort to Theon instead. Was he good to you?”

Sansa nodded. "He would have done anything for me."

* * *

Cat, Ned and Robb gathered in Sansa’s chamber for a hushed family conference. Everything had changed since they realised there was far more to their situation than had previously been thought.

“What do you plan to do, Mother?" Robb asked. "We can't allow this to go any further, can we?"

Cat had been thinking hard since she witnessed Joffrey's visit and talked to her daughter. “It will require people to guard Sansa from harm, but I think that Joffrey should keep his appointment tomorrow night.”

“You do?” Ned said in surprise.

“Jeyne and I will be here and maybe Lady Asha could also lend us her aid and her axe. I think ‘tis only fair that she should hear what is going on. We need as many allies as we can find.” Cat suggested. "I'll admit I was worried when they turned up, but she might be able to help us if we approach her rightly."

“’Tis a great risk, but we need enough evidence to incriminate Joffrey from his own mouth.” Ned agreed. "Very well, we shall do as your mother suggests. We must fight this plot with everything we have."

* * *

##  The next evening

Sansa, Cat and Asha stayed awake waiting for Joffrey to approach. Asha stood guard at the door.

“I warned you what I would do, if you did not leave you door open, Sansa. I take it you care nothing for your little brother Bran, then?” Joffrey sneered through the door.

“My parents will keep a guard on him. I won’t allow you to harm him.”

“You never know where and how I’m going to strike.” He smirked. “A knife in the dark, a fall from a tower--he likes to climb, doesn’t he? A drop of something in a drink. You can’t keep him safe forever.”

“What do you want from me. You can’t want me as your queen, not after this.”

Jofrey was not bothered by her protest. “You would be my very special ‘friend’,” he insinuated with a smirk that she could practically sense through the door. Sansa’s skin crawled at the way he said that.

“I don’t know what you mean by that.”

“Don’t you, Sansa the not so innocent any more? You would come to King’s Landing be a part of our court, you would come to me whenever I ordered, and you’d do everything I bid-" his voice trailed away lasciviously.

“You want me as some sort of mistress?” she said, appalled by his arrogance and disrespect.

“I always thought you were a smart lass. So have we a deal?” Joffrey gloated, greed and lust apparent in his voice. “I always desired you from the moment I saw you.”

“Never, you insult me by even suggesting it.” Sansa retorted. "Now please leave me alone, Joffrey!"

The queen appeared, sweeping into the corridor like she owned it, followed by her husband. This was the last thing the Starks had wanted.

“I was under the impression that there was some kind of nocturnal disturbance here so I decided to investigate.”

“Did you know your son was coming here?” Cat fired back. She would very much like to know exactly how much the queen knew. Had she put Joffrey up to this?

“Yes, I did as it seem it was just as well, as he seems to have uncovered your little intrigue It was amazing how the Queen was going to brazen out the fact that her son was found attempting to enter a maid’s room without her consent, making lurid threats against her and her family.

“Our little intrigue?” Cat said in amazement.

“What are you hiding? Have this door opened! Why is Lady Stark hiding like a criminal?” Cersei demanded, keen to cause trouble. “They are up to something, I’m sure of it! Why can’t they produce their daughter?”

"Aye, I shall deal with this. Joffrey, go to bed." Robert's face was set in a stern mask.

The Prince protested, resenting being sent away by his father. "But-"

"GO!" Robert bellowed, his blue eyes blazing.

Joffrey scurried away, not needing to be told twice.

Robert’s face was red with fury. He advanced on Sansa who stood cowering by her bed-hangings, trying vainly to shield her swelling stomach. She looked absolutely terrified by the sight of the king approaching her which was not surprising; Robert with the bloodlust on his face was a sight to terrify hardened warriors let alone one lone young female at her most vulnerable.

“What the hell is this?” he said in a low dangerous voice, that Ned knew well. He moved into position, not entirely sure that Sansa would be safe. "Now, Robert, please let's not do anything hasty--"

“Fuck me, you’re up the duff, ain’t yer?” the king exclaimed as he pulled the bedrobe open and stared at Sansa's ripened belly which she had tried to keep shielded.

Sansa was frozen in terror. She tried to speak, but no words came out.

“I should strip you of your titles and exile the lot of you!” he raged, teeth bared as he pointed at the evidence of her swollen belly. “Stark, did you really think you could hide this? Your daughter is ripe with a kraken in her belly and you thought you could conceal this?”

“Your Grace, this is a crisis I never thought to be in, but no deception was meant. We merely confined Sansa in punishment, as Theon is currently in custody in our cells.” Ned tried to persuade his old friend, but Robert did not seem as if he were listening to his explanations.

“No wonder you insisted you were wed to that no good wencher Theon. How long have you been hiding this? Lying to your king?” Cersei interjected with more than a hint of triumph.

“We are wed.” Sansa insisted. “He put his cloak round me, we took vows, I cannot break them!”

The Queen seemed unimpressed by her statement

“Wake up your useless maester and feed her some tansy right in front of us here. I’ll have no refusals. This disgraceful mess has gone on long enough!” sneered Cersei.“She should be in the dock side by side with her lover.” 

Sansa stood up to her, stung beyond endurance. “Then try me, and I will stand by his side proudly!”

A wicked gleam sparked in Cersei’s green eyes, as if she would love nothing better. “Is that so?”

“I am wed to Theon in the sight of the Gods by a septon of the Faith, your Grace, I have done nothing wrong.” She declared, speaking clearly, “ -I carry his heir, and I will not get rid of our child which was conceived in wedlock and in love."

Sansa’s brave words as she stood her ground merely served to infuriate Robert’s temper, inflamed to unreasonable heights. 

“You bloody stupid little bitch!” he snarled, he raised his fist and advanced on her, his face twisted in rage. Before anyone could stop him, he struck her across the face, making her fall onto the bed, stunned that he could have lost his composure so badly. 

No one could believe that Robert would have resorted to violence so readily. For a moment they were so shocked that they seemed frozen. There was no sound except for Sansa who had burst into frightened sobs, clutching her inflamed and swollen cheek.

"Your Grace!" she sobbed.

It took Ned and Renly hauling on his massive arms with all their strength to stop him from raising a hand to her again.

“Let me at her!” Robert growled, teeth set in a fearsome grimace. “Defy me, would you?”

“Robert, you can’t do this!” Ned urged. “Whatever sins she has committed, she is my lass. Please don’t do this! You can’t! How could you have struck my girl?”

Robert turned on him, raging. Ned honestly thought that he would hit him next, Robert was in a fearsome and indiscriminately lashing out. “Can’t I? She is lucky I only hit her once!”

“She is with child! You can’t strike a woman who is expecting!” Renly hissed, trying to get through to Robert, tussling with him. “Gods, what is wrong with you? And you wonder why she wanted nothing to do with your son?”

“Since when did that ever stop him?” Cersei said from the doorway, a bitter smile on her voice. She looked if she were enjoying herself immensely. "His Grace is well-known for getting handsy with those who cannot defend themselves."

Robert flashed her a look of utter hatred. "And you can hush your mouth, you poisonous wench!" he snarled.

Cersei just gave him a smirk of triumph, enjoying scoring a point over him.

“Think how this looks to the world, you losing your temper and hitting a woman. Is that how you want to be remembered? As a brute and a bully?” Renly urged, his muscles straining against Robert's weight.

“I don’t give a damn. The scheming witch has made a fool of us all. Another wanton bitch that knows not her duty.” Robert snarled.

Cat and Asha blocked his path. Swift as a flash, Asha withdrew one of her throwing axes from her tunic and passed it from hand to hand.

“Your Grace, I cannot allow you to raise a hand to my child.” Cat stood before Robert, her chin up, defying him to make another attempt at violence. 

Asha's mouth stretched into a grim defiant smile, literally challenging Robert to raise his hand once more. "May I remind you that if any harm comes to Lady Sansa, as mother of Theon's child and our heir, that you will regret it? Striking a pregnant woman, it must make you feel like such a big man! Such a strong proud warrior!"

“Is that a weapon you have in your king's presence?" Cersei demanded.

Asha did not back down one bit, eyeing the Queen with dislike and scorn.

"I must say, Lady Catelyn, that your discipline of your daughter seems very lax! I am assured that my Myrcella would never dream of acting in such a shameless fashion.” Cersei retorted.

“Good-sister, enough. You are not improving the situation at all.” Renly remonstrated, trying and failing to keep the peace. "Lady Asha, please, we do not need weapons here!"

Asha did not lower her weapon. Her smile to Renly was tight and menacing, though her words were polite. "On the contrary, I think we certainly do! But at least one of you has the decency to make peace here. Lord Renly I must thank for having the honesty to deal with us-- oh, should I not have said anything?"

Cersei’s lip curled. “I might have known you would leap to the girl’s defence.” She said poisonously, eyeing him with sheer dislike. "What did she do? Start making eyes at you as well? I suppose you went out of your way to inform the Greyjoys, didn't you? How swiftly you turn against your own House!"

Robert was astounded at the news that his own younger brother had gone over to the other side and was actually aiding the guilty couple. "You've been working against us?"

Robert, be sensible! All I want is justice to be done."

"Oh yes, you're al about Justice aren't you?" sneered Cersei.

“Robert, come, is this necessary?” Renly tried to calm the situation, ignoring his good-sister's snide comments. “The girl is distressed as it is. Let us all go to bed and consider this when we are all rested. There is no need for any more unpleasantness.”

"You are meant to be on my side? Or does loyalty mean nothing to you?" Robert gritted out.

"Brother...Rob, please back down. I have no wish to be hacked to death in my bed. Lady Asha means what she says, and in truth you must see we are in the wrong. Joffrey should not have come here to threaten the lady tonight."

Renly was at last getting through to the king, though he glared at the sobbing Sansa and his jaw was stubbornly set, he started to back away.

“I should throw her into jail with her lover. Send her away to a septry for the rest of her life, or maybe the Silent Sisters? Cersei made sure to get her viewpoint across. “It amazes me how this girl has no shame for how she has dragged down her house!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have just posted this, and now I kind of feel rather discouraged due to some bad reviews. I may rewrite this chapter completely again (I'm sorry!)  
> I really want to finish this, but right now I feel like well, rather unhappy. Maybe it's time to leave this story alone and move on , I dunno. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think


	10. The Trial of Theon Greyjoy

After the shocking events of the night and Robert's extremely negative reaction to the scandal engulfing the House of Stark, Ned did not know how to handle things, treading a precarious path between the royal family's displeasure and the righteous indignation of House Greyjoy. This had to be a nobleman's worst nightmare and right now he could see no way out.

 _How could Robert have lost his composure so badly as to strike his girl?_ Even though Ned deplored her rash action running away with Theon and her stubbornness in staying by his side to detriment of her reputation, the brave way she had stood up to Robert and Cersei's intimidation was nothing short of admirable, in a way.

 _Oh Sansa, my daughter, my sweet maid, my pride and joy, how coud this happen?_ he lamented silently.

"I would very much like to see my relative." Asha asked with a politeness which cut as sharp as her blades as she intercepted his brooding as he walked. She walked fast, intent on catching up with him. Ned slowed down, allowing her to accost him, "Would that be permissible, Lord Stark?"

Ned felt that he was at a disadvantage and it did not sit well with him morally. Even though Theon was under detention in his cells under order of the crown for running away with Sansa, if he had his own way now he would have released him, even if would had had no choice but to disinherit her. At least the couple would had had a fighting chance to make some sort of a life together. But there was little chance of leniency from Robert, with Cersei egging him on and provoking the situation.

"I will have you and your uncle escorted down to the cells at your convenience." Ned felt he was responsible for this mess.

If only he could have kept things under wraps and protect his daughter, but he knew full well it was his duty to uphold the law.

Asha's insolent smirk was sharp enough to slice and devoid of humour. "'Tis good of you, my lord?"

“You may find this hard to believe, Lady Asha, but I don’t actually wish any harm to Theon. Sure, I was disappointed that he ran off with my beloved daughter, but if it is true that they are wed in the sight of the gods-” he paused and sighed, barely believing he was about to admit this publicly, “-considering the alternatives, perhaps he's not the worst option any more.”

"You don't want to punish my brother for falling for your daughter?" Asha failed to hide her surprise, the breeze snatched from her sails. It sounded like Ned Stark was actually having a change of heart, unsurprisingly after Joffrey’s behaviour outside Sansa’s room that night, where the spoiled princeling had shown the worst side to his personality, and Robert’s shocking, unreasonable violence towards Sansa.

"This situation is not what I would have wanted. If I had known what I know now, well-"

"Well?" 

"All I ever wanted was to give my girl the best future, a lord who was worthy of her." Looking back on Theon's botched proposal and how he had refused it, he wished now that he had been less dismissive and highhanded of his ward, given it more consideration. Perhaps it really was the lesser of two evils, although they knew it not at the time."I have judged him wrongly, and now I have no idea of how to make things right."

"Then help us, Lord Stark! Help us save my brother, despite his rashness, and your daughter will have a place in our family. I own, 'tis probably not what you wished for the lass, but anything is better than what they have planned for him."

Even though what Asha was asking of him was near enough impossible, Ned could not help but have sympathy for their cause, but he had to be practical.

"I will do what I can, but do not get your hopes up."

\---- 

Theon's cell

Theon was just awaking, ready for another long day, when he was surprised by the group which was making his way to his cell.

"Uncle Roddy, Asha? Uncle Victarion?" his heart could not help but leap at the sight of Sansa in their midst, although he was concerned by the slight reddened mark on her face. She looked tired, but her face brightened as she saw her beloved, touching his hand as he reached out behind bars.

"Good morn, my love." she said, with a brave little smile trying to boost his spirits. Once again he marvelled at her strength of spirit, which despite their travails remained strong.

His uncle looked at him with undisguised sorrow in his eyes. Theon thought he looked older and more grey than he remembered him, tired and drawn from his long voyage, though Theon believed he could see compassion in his eyes at the sight, an assurance he badly needed, "Oh Theon, my lad, what has become of you?" 

Of course, his father was conspicuous by his absence. Balon made it obvious by his every action that he cared not a jot for the son which he had lost. As soon as Ned Stark took him, his own father had given him up for dead. On the other hand both Rodrik and Victarion had accompanied his sister here. Perhaps he still had some use to the Isles. 

_All I want is to go home,_ his longing overtook him for a moment, stark in it's intensity.

He was pleased to see his kin, the knowledge that they came out of their way to support him, no matter what. Sansa's plan did work, Lord Renly did manage to aid her, he thought with gratitude to the Southerner. "'Tis long since I have see you, nuncle?

Rodrik sighed, "Aye, I had hoped to see you in better circumstances, but these things cannot be helped, can they? Your mother bids you welcome, but you must understand she has not been herself for some time, since your departure."

"Let us see the girl that my brother would risk everything for?" Though her tone was forthright and brusque, Sansa knew that Asha and her Uncle Rodrik had some sympathy for their fraught situation. They would have hardly responded to Renly's call for help if they did not, leaving him to rot for his folly in wooing Sansa from under Ned Stark's nose.

“Tell us what happened here? Why does Robert Baratheon want your head?”

_How could he start to tell them of what had become of Sansa Stark and him, why he had fallen for his captor’s daughter, Greenlander girl that she was and why they both had taken such a desperate reckless risk to be with each other, despite the consequences?_

"Sansa and I had feelings for one another for some time. I asked Lord Stark for her hand and he refused me. Then Joffrey was ungallant to her and I had to keep her safe, by whatever means I had. Do you understand? "

"Is this true, Lady Stark?" Asha questioned her keenly.

"Be assured that I dearly want to be his wife and bear his children. In truth, Theon and I were all each other truly wanted for a long time." Sansa's sincerity shone in her face.

"The lass's feelings are hardly in doubt, Asha?" Rodrik asked his niece, with a reassuring smile at the newest member of House Greyjoy. "I think 'tis clear to see that Lady Sansa's return our boy's affections." 

At that moment, he was truly proud of her. No matter what befell them both, Sansa was determined to stand by him through triumph and disaster. _What did I e'er do on this good green earth to deserve her? She is truly worthy of being my Lady of the Isles._

"The King and Lord Stark wanted her to marry Joffrey, but we already felt deeply for one another." he admitted. "How could I stand by and allow the woman I love to be bound to that monster?"

Rodrik took in his plea with a grave look, realising that his nephew was sincere, as determined to be with Sansa as she was to be with him, that all they wanted was to be a family, "All we can do is argue your case, Theon, and let us hope that 'tis enough to move Robert Baratheon to mercy."

* * *

The next session in court was a stormy one, as House Greyjoy and Harlaw were insistent on being heard.

"According to the rule of the land, Theon has acted rashly, but in truth he has not done anything wrong." Armed with his books of law and Renly’s discreet counsel, Rodrik was determined to establish that Theon and Sansa had acted in desperation and meant to live lawfully together as man and wife.

"Theon Greyjoy stole from the Crown and dishonoured a maiden from a Great House, there can be only the severest penalty for such a crime!"

“You plan to murder him and you dare to tell us what we can and can't do with our kinsman?” Asha fingered her throwing ax with intent, a dangerous gleam in her eyes. 

Rodrik backed her, taking a more diplomatic approach, "The girl was not forced, you heard her testimony clear as day. She wanted to be with him. By all accounts, they are not only in love but are wed already and furthermore, Lady Greyjoy is carrying a child, our heir!”

“Why are you so keen to defend him? I would imagine that he was a stranger taken in his youth, much more of a Stark than a Greyjoy.” argued the king.

“Aye, ‘tis true that Theon was taken as a boy from his ancestral lands. We lost an able- bodied man to serve the Isles, a captain to boost our fleet, Of course it is clear that we shall defend what is ours!”

“If I did not know better, I would say that statement sounded like a threat, Lady Asha?” Robert's face turned scarlet with indignation.

She faced the furious king, unabashed by his bluster.

“I would advise you are not quite so hasty. We shall be heard and heeded", Victarion butted in, before Rodrik and Asha could stop him. Asha dreaded him butting in. He was an Ironman of the old school, reared in the old way and the art of diplomacy and compromise was to be honest quite alien to him. They had to present a unified front in front of these Greenlanders. No dissent allowed if they were to carry out their mission and free Theon from these accusations.

He brandished a small crystal vial, filled with a clear liquid.

Asha’s heart sank as she realised that Victarion, impatient with their attempts at diplomacy had gone through her belongings behind her backs, and executed his own plan with his usual lack of subtlety and brute force.

“What on earth is that?” the members of the courtroom stared at the contents of the vial.

“Security that you’ll actually listen to the will of the Isles before you make a decision.” Victarion looked highly pleased with himself, obviously under the impression he had presented them all with a trump card.

"Drowned Gods be good, nuncle, what has he wrought?" Asha groaned to Rodrik in despair, sensing the case spiralling rapidly out of their control.

"'Tis well nigh time we stopped this messing about and cut to the sinews of the matter. Harlaw and my niece might want to spend all day splitting feathers and playing 'come in my castle' but we don't intend to leave without our heir or his son." His belligerent voice sounded unmistakably like a threat. Asha could have torn her hair out. _All Rodrik’s careful diplomacy all come to naught!_

“If you want my opinion, which I note ye haven't asked for, the lad's proposed marriage for her which is a damn sight more than most true Ironborn would.” Victarion claimed.

"A damn sight more?"

Victarion was unabashed at the appalled reaction, "He wed her in the sight of your gods, did he not? As his rock wife and future Lady of the Isles?"

"As far as we are concerned, the lass is ripe with his bairn, she wants him, and we claim them both in the name of House Greyjoy and House Harlaw."

"The girl was promised to another." Cersei protested by King Robert's side, "There was a binding contract!"

"With all due respect, it seems that she has already made up her mind not to have your whelpling and considering what we have learned of his rough wooing methods, who can blame her? 'Tis done and all this legal belly-aching is getting us nowhere."

Victarion's arrogant overconfident tone provoked a stubborn Robert. "You are mighty confident, seeing as we hold all the cards here?"

“Is that so? Perhaps we should give you a demonstration outside, so you see that we are in earnest? D'ye have anything out side the walls you'd like to be rid of, Stark?”

\---------

Ned blinked as his hayrick went up in flames. Three drops of the liquid flicked carelessly on the pile of hay and refuse was enough set it ablaze, glowing with a heat and a eerie white light only quelled eventually by three drops from another vial. The crowd looked on in appalled silence at the destructive power on display. The threat of Victarion’s was deadly serious and he was no fool enough to dismiss it. _How much of this stuff did they have and would they be prepared to use it?_

"Lady Asha, what deviltry have you brought here?"

Much as she clearly did not like the way that her Uncle Victarion had hijacked the negotiations, what could they do but present a united front faced with the Greenlanders? Even Ned could see the dilemma she was in.

“It was a last resort, naught more. We merely are prepared to use everything in our disposal to free my brother from this unjust charge?” she said.

With a sigh of reluctance at the wreck of their argument , but still trying to salvage at least something from their case Rodrik backed her up, "We have an heir at stake and we will not give him up. Now we would like to do this amicably, but-”

“You actually want a bastard from this misbegotten match?”

“I would remind you, your Grace that Theon and Sansa were wed by the laws of your lands and so any child from this union is legitimate and claimed by House Greyjoy.” Rodrik reminded them crisply. "Might I remind everyone here that all we want is a amicable solution to the problem."

“You threatened us!”

“Our heir is on trial most unfairly! D'ye expect to bend our necks under the yokes and say nowt?” Victarion was not prepared to back down, not even comprehending the damage he had done to their cause. "If we have shall we not use it?"

“Why are you so bothered about heirs? House Greyjoy should die out, after they rebelled against the crown and threatened trade for so long. We have been lenient with you.” the Queen spat out, interfering once more

An accord was looking further away than ever.

“You murdered Maron and Rodrik, my father’s heirs. You took Theon from us and made him a stranger to his own land and people. He was the only heir we had, you ruined his life, and now you would condemn him for seeking a woman of his own. We were fighting for our freedom!” she fired back, just as smartly. “‘Tis no sin for an oppressed people to seek justice by whatever means at his disposal."

“You see! You see how they plan to endanger us? That was a clear threat against the crown by Victarion Greyjoy. Are you going to ignore that threat?” Cersei’s voice was going shrill. "Take them into custody, all of them!"

* * *

“Cersei-“

By taking the Greyjoy party into custody, the situation had escalated exponentially. Ned hoped that the Greyjoys did not declare this an act of war, for that was the last thing he needed.

“I don’t feel safe around any of them. Are you going to wait until they burn this place around our ears before you take action?” she demanded, green eyes bright and cruel.

“With all due respect, your son has much to answer for! The things I heard him say to my daughter were unacceptable.” Cat said.

“My son is not on trial here!” Cersei declared clinging onto Joffrey’s arm and glaring at her opponents.

“I am starting to wonder whether he should be.” Renly couldn’t help remarking.

Cersei turned on him, “You would! Why am I not surprised to find you have no loyalty to your own house?”

They glared at each other, years of enmity seething between them

“This is not about loyalty to a house, this is about right and wrong, something that you obviously have not instructed your son in!”

“Enough, you two, stop bickering!” Robert had no patience for either of them.

“This thief, this wencher is the one who is on trial today. Let us not forget that!”

“I don't care what nonsense they've got this septon to spout about their marriage, the fact of the matter is that the Starks broke their words and allowed this travesty to happen on their watch. They should pay for it!” Cersei fumed.

She certainly did not like the fact that despite the rogue element of Victarion Greyjoy who was obviously a crackpot like his brother, Rodrik Harlaw and Asha’s argument seemed very plausible to the outward eye. Now it was the royal party who appeared unreasonable.

Ned heartily wished that she would leave the room and stop interfering in the trial. _What chance did Sansa and Theon have of mercy when she was there inciting Robert to inflict the most severe of penalties for their transgression?_

“I'm sure they will. Have we not imposed a fine on them?” Robert grumbled. Ned saw that his friend disliked the conflict, wanted nothing more than an easy life, ashamed of his nocturnal rage where he had struck Sansa. He was not going to get one with his queen deliberately stirring up conflict and baying for Greyjoy's blood. If only I could appeal to his sense of justice and honour, however hidden deep down!

“Not nearly enough!” she muttered.

“What more do you want?” Robert argued. “D'ye expect me to beggar my best friend, woman?”

“He has to pay. Somebody has to pay. My Joffrey has been wronged by these people most grievously.”

Ned was of the mind that if anyone to blame for this mess, it was the spoilt prince and his behaviour towards Sansa, but as he was somewhat in disgrace, perhaps it wasn't the best time to state his opinion.

Robert was annoyed by her constant needling and bitching about the subject. “I'll decide who's paying. Now shut thy mouth afore I shut it for you. You have a damn sight too much to say on the subject!” Robert snapped.

“Just because I am the only one who cares about my son's welfare and future happiness-” her voice trailed away as she caught the baleful look in her husband's eye.

“If we take all of this into account, we can make other arrangement. It's not ideal but if the Harlaws are willing to negotiate a new settlement.” Ned started to reason,trying so hard to salvage something, however small from this disastrous trial.

“It's not good enough! I want that Greyjoy's head on a stake!” Cersei burst out unable to restrain herself.

Robert was rather alarmed at his queen's vindictiveness. “Is that not a bit extreme? Send the lad to the wall or exile him home.”

“Are you going soft? Is that it? He insults our son and you are going to do nothing about it?” Cersei sneered. ”Ah I see, you care more about other men's sons than your own.”

“We can find another high-born maiden to wed the Prince. A Tyrell, or something. The Martell girl is still unmarried...” Renly tried to reason.

Cersei gave an outraged gasp as if thoroughly offended by the suggestion. “Those grasping arrivistes! They didn't even have royal blood in them. And you want our Joffrey, our son and heir to marry her?”

When Cersei turned to Ned, her green eyes gleamed vindictively. “Your daughter will pay, don't you fret, Lord Stark. Both of them will-”

* * *

The next day, the verdict

"We have come to a verdict in the case of the abduction of Lady Stark by Theon Greyjoy."

The audience all held their breath waiting for the king's final judgement. Would he allow justice to prevail? Or would he insist upon the severest penalty for the couple’s rashness?

“I rule that Theon Greyjoy should be executed swift and sure and that the sentence of death shall be carried out by the Warden of the North before the Royal Party leaves to go south.”

#

_The death sentence?_ Cat was appalled by the verdict Robert and Cersei had come to in the matter. He's only a young man, surely they had both done wrong to run away and marry without permission, but did it have to come to that? Execution?

As angry as she was about Theon's temerity in running away with their daughter, the judgement seemed more than extreme.

“Was there no other option? Exile or the Wall?”

“No-” Ned shook his head. “-the royal party insist on staying to see the deed done themselves. Cersei and Joffrey wanted him flayed hung drawn and quartered, but Renly and I argued them down to execution.”

“The Greyjoys hate us as it is. They will never forgive us for killing their last son and heir. Now that I have detained them in my own cells-” 

“Under order of your king, Ned! What else were you going to do?”

“Asha and his uncle argue and rage in our cells, and I mislike detaining them when they have done nothing wrong, but what can I do? I cannot disobey his Grace, and he- stubborn Baratheon that he is- will not bend. “ he gave a bitter laugh. “He won't listen to reasoned counsel, even Renly at his most persuasive and charming cannot get through to him. They want blood, his blood but it is my hands that will be stained.”

“What choice do we have? It's him or us. Robert and Cersei will show no mercy Right now, they call us traitor. Cat, I need not tell you how dangerous that is, do I?”

They had so much to lose. As king Robert could take the post of Warden of the North from him easily. He had already shown that his friendship with him counted for little when he was displeased with him. he could easily press other sanctions on them.

“Sansa will never forgive us for our part in this. Your friend Robert and his wife have damned us all!”

“Cat, oh Cat I know.” Ned's head bent sorrowfully. “Whatever we do, we risk losing our daughter.”

His grey eyes were haunted by the choice he was forced to make. To take the life of his ward; a lad he had brought up as his own son and break his daughter's heart, leaving her child a bastard, or to forfeit everything to the vindictive spite of Joffrey and Cersei.


	11. To Die with a Noble Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tragedy strikes as Theon and Sansa pay the ultimate price for their reckless folly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel that I have to warn that from here on, things are going to take a turn for the tragic. 
> 
> This tale does not have a happy ending.

"So what do we do now? Any ideas, Uncle Rodrik?" Asha brooded as the group seethed in the Winterfell cells. This had certainly not gone how she had expected it to. If only Uncle Victarion had not seen fit to interfere with their plea in his clumsy brutal way. Being locked up alongside Theon was not remotely in the plan, and time was running out. _How were they going to achieve anything locked up in Ned's cells, while Theon had been condemned to death?_

In the next cell, Rodrik was inclined to agree with her, "If we get out of this, 'twill be a damned miracle."

Asha had to agree with his pessimistic view of their situation, right now things looked bleak as they ever had for them all.

"'Tis an outrage!" Victarion rattled his chain, outraged at being taken into custody by Lord Stark and bristling with spiky defensiveness about the result of his rogue move. Even he as oblivious as he normally was had noticed that Asha was at this point not speaking to him, raging and seething at their turn of fortune.

"You threatened them, Nuncle, how did you think they were going to react?" She gritted out.

Rodrik looked grim, failing for all his cleverness and diplomacy to see a way out of this.

* * *

There was a faint spark of hope when Renly arrived in the evening, furtively looking around him, as if he did not wish to be associated with them openly and their failed mission. Still, at least he had not completely deserted their cause, even though it had ended in disaster. Perhaps there was something, however small he could for them.

"Lord Renly, is there nothing that you can do?" Asha appealed to him, trying with all the meagre means at her disposal to persuade him to aid them one final time. " We cannot be trapped here, while my brother is unjustly condemned?"

He ran a hand through his thick dark hair, exasperated and harried by his position, caught between the will of two opposing forces. At this point, he was probably regretting ever getting involved, "You must understand the seriousness of the situation. I need not spell this out for you? That vial-"

"It 'twas nowt more than a deterrent, not a threat. It would have been a last resort when all else had failed!" She tried to reassure him. " My father insisted that we brought it, much against my judgement. 'Tis volatile stuff, I mislike it as much as you." 

"How much of this stuff has Lord Balon got stockpiled?" He asked, sighing deep as she remained stubbornly silent, "You can't tell me, can you?"

Asha shook her head in regret.

Renly swore under his breath, frustrated and powerless to help Asha's and their cause any further, "You have to realise that vial has made things a great deal more complex. The Queen took the vial and its properties as a dire threat, and right now she has the ear of his Majesty. She whispers of treason in his ear and right now he is inclined to listen to his wife, for once."

Once again, Asha could have kicked herself.

His face was grave. "Seven knows I have tried to talk sense into my brother on your behalf-- to my own detriment, but at the moment 'tis a lost cause. Robert is now set on making an example of House Greyjoy."

"An example?

His blue eyes were sorrowful, "Say goodbye to your brother, Lady Asha, whilst you still have time."

* * *

The guard came for Theon in the morning just as dawn broke. He'd guessed that they would come, that this would be his last day on earth. He would face his death with honour and dignity, if he could. No one would ever have cause to say that he could not face his end with some dignity. A Greyjoy does not shrink from death!

The only thing that gave him a qualm was the thought that Sansa would take his death very hard. She loved him with such an intensity, she would never survive being made to marry another man after he had loved her and given her his cloak and a child- let alone Joffrey as their parents intended. 

How would the spoilt cruel prince treat her now that he knew that she was his? What would happen to their child, once he was gone, and she was in his clutches? 

It didn't bear thinking about.

\-------

Ned stood by the block, his greatsword Ice by his side gleaming in the early morning light, his stern yet normally kindly face set grim as stone. 

Theon hoped that he would be merciful and swift, that at least this nightmare would be over swiftly. At least he was using Ice which he knew Lord Eddard kept and honed ready to do his duty. 

One swift stroke and this would be all over. 

He wished that he could have seen Sansa in private once last time; held her in his arms and comforted her in their grief, but her father had probably taken great pains that she should not know his miserable fate.

 _I had everything. A child, a wife who adored me with every beat of her heart. The only woman I could ever truly love. And I have lost everything due to our mad reckless sweet folly._

_Do I regret it? A part of me deep down does not and cannot. I loved her, beyond all hope all reason. I just wish I could have had a lifetime with her. To have known our child and my heir, to heal the breach with my father._

_If only I could have had the life that was stolen from me. But would I have known my Sansa if I had?_

* * *

Sansa was dead asleep buried deep in her furs when she was shaken awake by a frantic Jeyne standing over her; face pale and anxious as she tried to rouse her mistress.

"You have to wake. You must wake now!" her friend's voice was tight with anxiety.

"What?" she rubbed her eyes, peering round her in a bewildered fashion. "Jeyne, what is it?"

"They're taking Theon to the block. You have to come now if you want to save him!" her friend's voice was shrill with nerves and fear.

Sansa was instantly awake as if Jeyne had poured a bucket of ice-cold water over her.

"What are you talking about? Tell me true."

Jeyne wrung her hands, utterly distressed by the terrible news she had to tell her mistress, big dark eyes wide with horror. "Your father was polishing Ice in the godswood. He doesn't want to do it, your mother was comforting him and crying at the thought, but Queen Cersei insists and the King will not contradict her. They're doing it today! In the morning before the royal party depart-"

Sansa froze at the dreadful news for several moments, horrified by the fate of her love. _This could not be happening! King Robert could not be so cruel!_ She visibly pulled herself together, summoning some strength from deep inside her that she did not even know that she had.

"Help me dress, Jeyne. Please.”

Jeyne managed to pull a dress over her head, but her red hair was dishevelled and undone from bed, her eyes bleary. The babe was starting to move, agitated by the sudden movements.

Jeyne was frantically rummaging through her chest. "Where did you put it?" she muttered.

"We don't have time, Jeyne. What are you looking for?”

“Your cloak! The one Theon married you in with the kraken embroidered on it. We need it!” the maid kept up her frantic search.

"We have no time, Jeyne! Come on-"

“You need to make a statement. Tell the world loud and clear that you are his. You need that damned cloak. Ah! There it is!” Jeyne insisted. "Lord Renly told me it's vital you paint a picture, create an image to change hearts and minds and win people over to your side."

Jeyne fastened the black wool cloak at her throat."Come, let's go and let us pray by the gods old and new that we are in time.”

 

\-------

Sansa and Jeyne made it to the block in time, by some miracle, still breathless from their flight to the courtyard.

Theon stood surrounded by royal and Stark guards, his head up as he faced her father who looked on at him grim-faced by what he was about to do. 

She saw his bound hands and pale wan face and ran to join her lover, despite the consequences.

"Sansa?" Theon looked at her, life and hope coming back into his deadened eyes. He raised his hands to embrace her and the chains clanked, restricting his arms and dragging them down. 

She clung to him, pressing desperate kisses to his face.

“Dearheart-” he sighed. “I would have spared you this pain if I could.”

She turned in desperation to someone, anyone who could help,"You can't do this. You can't kill him. He's done nothing wrong!" she turned her face earnestly towards her father, her lovely face streaked with tears.

"Sansa. You shouldn't have to have seen this." Ned said sorrowfully, his voice cracking as if fit to break.

"He's my husband." She pleaded, starting to sob and sinking to her knees in supplication. “We are wed in the sight of the Gods, I told you true. You must not do this! Please, spare him-”

Ned swallowed painfully for a moment, a heavy lump in his throat. _Old Gods have mercy, what new tortures and horrors would they subject him and his family to now?_ He could not speak, to see his daughter, his pride and joy despite her disgrace, on her knees begging him piteously for the lad's life.

"Please, I am begging you upon my knees, father-" she sobbed, clinging to his legs, her hair dishevelled and hanging over her face. "Spare him. For my sake. Please-"

Ned's heart broke all over again to see his adored daughter pleading for the boy's life. If he were honest, if it were up to him, he would let them go free to make their own fortunes with his blessing. Life would be hard, there would be no denying that on the Isles, but they would be together, at the very least. But Cersei and Robert were still here and they demanded vengeance for Prince Joffrey and the threat of that silver flame, death in a small vial brought here as weapon from the Iron Isles.

"If I had any choice I would let you and him go free, but my hands are tied. The king and queen demand justice and I am- I must be their loyal servant." he leaned forward to talk quietly in her ear, hoping she would understand the ramifications of his terrible choice. “It's him or us, dear girl. Cersei and Joffrey thirst for vengeance. House Stark is on a knife edge here-”

"Father!" Sansa drew back from him, appalled at what he was saying.

"My dear child, you rend my heart in twain, but my hands are tied."

“Do you have any last words, Greyjoy?" He said, his heart heavy at the duty he was forced to perform.

Theon looked back defiantly at him, despite the chains at his wrists and ankle. If they expected him to grovel and beg for his life they were going to be sore mistaken. "Let not my son be killed or born a bastard. He is innocent of all this... and my adored wife- let her have sanctuary with my family, if she wishes it.”

"You cannot!" Cersei ground her teeth in thwarted spite. “His head is to go on a spike outside Winterfell, as a warning to all you never flout the will of his Grace.”

“Be quiet, woman, have you not had vengeance enough? This whole situation makes me sick to the guts, I'll not deny it.” Robert thundered from the dais. "Let the poor bastard have his last wish."

Theon sensed that time was running out, and he had not long before he would be parted from his wife and their unborn child forever. He would never know his son, that had been robbed from him, as had so much else, “Dearheart, I wish we could have had a lifetime together, but it was not to be.”

“Don't leave me, how will I ever live without you?” she sobbed, clinging onto him as if her heart would shatter to leave him. “How can I do this once you're gone?”

He didn't care if the entire court looked on disapprovingly. He kissed her passionately, knowing too well that time was running out and cruel Death had his hand on his shoulder. “You can. You will. You are strong and brave: you proved that a thousand times over. Now live and prosper, you and the bairn, for me.” he told her.

She nodded, her tears dampening his jerkin as he held her close for the last time. "I promise."

Ned knew it was not much, but it was all the comfort that he could offer the lad in his last moments, “Theon will be buried at sea, as an Ironman should be. He will be sent out in a longship to seek the Drowned God's halls and a place at his table.”

The look of gratitude from Theon told Ned that at least in this small way, he had done the right thing. "Aye, Lord Stark," he said, meeting his eye, man to man. "One stroke, let it be swift and sharp."

What else could Ned do, but assent? "Theon, I-"

"This is how this was always going to end, my head on a Stark block. It was fated from the start, but I want you to know, I loved her true. Do you believe me?"

Ned's eyes closed briefly in anguish, "Aye , I do."

Ned was going to ask that Sansa spared herself the sight of Theon's execution but he knew the determined look on her fair face, that she would refuse to look away, that she felt it her duty to witness, however terrible and bleak the fate of her true love.

Theon knelt by the block, and laid his head.

Ice rose, and there was hardly a sound, only the sound of weeping on the breeze as the sentence was carried out, lacerating and painful.

Robert approached Ned, who looked upon his former friend with a stony face. He looked genuinely shaken by what he had seen, the stark consequences of his judgement brought home to him. "Ned, I am sorry. I never meant for things to go so far-"

Ned could scarcely bear to look at him, deploring his moral weakness, his lack of compassion when it might have done some good.. "Whatever her sins, my girl was not Lya. You wronged her." He said, quiet and accusing and watched Robert wince in shame and regret. 

“Lord Stark, are you going to allow them to take your daughter?” Cersei called out, her voice ringing out, imperious and triumphant, not showing an ounce of the remorse of the King.

Ned didn't see how he had any choice. The way Sansa recoiled from him, appalled and disillusioned once her love had been so summarily executed in front of her was a knife to his ribs. He would never forget that as long as he lived, nor the vindictive cruelty of the Queen.

"On the contrary we can. She is a Greyjoy now and the mother of Balon's heir. If the girl wants sanctuary with us, she is more than welcome to it." Lord Rodrik said firmly.

"My uncle, my Aunt Gwynesse and my mother will help raise the child. My brother's child will not be called bastard. After all, 'twas his dying wish." Asha's smile was grim. She raised her voice so it could be heard by all, ringing out in defiance. “Pyke will have it's heir and it's vengeance too. We shall not forget that you murdered our rightful heir. That he did nothing wrong, they wed by the laws of your lands, and the lass wanted him as much as he desired her.”

“Come, child, will you take sanctuary with us?” Rodrik asked Sansa, with a gentleness to break anyone's heart.

She looked at him with haunted deadened eyes. Slowly, she nodded. 

Ned closed his eyes in painful anguish, as if realising that he was losing his daughter all over again.

Rodrik's hand on her shoulder was an anchor and comfort, “You will be safe with us, I promise. You and the child will never want. You are a Greyjoy now, aye and a Harlaw too. And though we have not much, we look after our own. Come, dear girl."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm quite nervous about posting this, even though I did try to say from the start that this was going to be a tragedy.


	12. Epilogue

**Five Years Later....**

Arya had sailed from Seagard, on her long awaited visit, hiring passage on a merchant ship heading for the Isles. It had been stormy all the way there-- the seas turbulent and rough with gloomy darkened skies and foreboding clouds following them all the way from harbour. Frankly, she was glad she had managed to make it here in one piece, especially past the treacherous whirlpools near her destination.

She asked to be set down at Harlaw, which seemed to be one of the largest and prosperous of the Isles, more green and boasting a little more vegetation than the others. As far as she remembered, this was where to find Rodrik Harlaw and his kin, and most likely a good starting point to find Sansa. After all, he offered her sister sanctuary after the tragedy, he must know where she would be now, she reasoned.

All the same, it seemed a pretty bleak place, especially compared to what they knew. She wondered how her sweet delicate pampered sister tolerated life here.

 _How can Sansa bear to live here?_ She asked herself, _and how the Isles would cope once the Long Winter finally came? With no family and only the Harlaws and the child for company? Why does she lock herself away in penance?_

__

 

"Where are you heading to, my lady?" asked the man at the dock, once she had stated her business and collected her small pack of belongings from the hold. He still gave her a distrustful look, which she expected in all truth. Iron Islanders came across as a rather distrustful lot, insular and wary of strangers, especially those from the Greenlands, and Starks in particular, “Not many visit here from the Greenlands, I warrant Lord Reaper wouldn't like it very much.”

The old buzzard probably wouldn't, but she'd asked Ser Rodrik for permission, not Balon. If she wanted to see her sister it was none of his business.

Mainlanders were not trusted here and after the disaster of the last couple of years it was hardly a surprise. She'd had to write many letters and drive many a hard bargain to gain permission to come here, and if were not for Lord Rodrik Harlaw's good will, she would never have got a foothold here, however precarious.

"I'm here to see Ser Rodrik." Arya said to the harbourmaster, smartly. "On family business, you understand?"

He gave her another look as if taking in her features once more: the long narrow face of the Starks, the grey eyes, dark hair and long sharp nose.

"You must be Lady Arya Stark. Have ye come to see your sister and the bairns?" he said eventually.

He'd managed to genuinely surprise her for the first time, _Bairns? There was two of them?_

Arya imagined her sister giving birth to Theon's children after their traumatic parting, still grieving for him all alone without the consolation of family. "Yes, I am. Is that going to be a problem?" She put down her tankard and looking him right in the eye, not backing down from the challenge.

"Eh, 'tis nay skin off my nose, is it? If the Harlaw be fine wi' it, then who am I to argue? 'Sides, the Lady Reaper've have the hide off my back if 'owt happened to yer. Mayhap you might see the Three Widows of Harlaw, then if he does not object to you coming here."

“Aye!” agreed one grizzled man from his cosy spot by the fire. He took a swig of ale.

"Three Widows?" Arya didn't quite get what he meant. Presumably it was some kind of local legend, that the Islanders regale visitors with at every opportunity.

“Ain't yer heard the tale? Three fair and tragic women live with Ser Rodrik in the bleak castle, each mourning for their lost laddie. Alannys though she be half-mad with sorrow for her dead son, Gwynesse still grieves for her lost husband and complains of her rights, and the lady Sansa as fair as a spring, tough as iron, but as sad and lonely as winter made flesh.”

"He took her in?" Arya asked, starting to think a little bit better of the Harlaws. Lord Rodrik had kept his word and cared for Sansa at her lowest ebb, when she was stricken with unimaginable grief.

"Aye, and the bairns too. Harlaw's soft but he's an honourable man.” The landlord said.

“It'd be a sorrowful place if it weren't for those children. The light and hope of auld Balon's life and Lord Rodrik's too. He loves them as if they were his own.” remarked his companion.

She found it hard to imagine Lord Balon loving anything or anyone. Even Theon, his own son, had admitted he was a hard man to please.

“So she’ll never remarry?” Arya asked, feeling sad for her sister, who once had dreamt of love and romance and chivalry, until her girlish dreams had shattered in tragedy.

He shook his head. “Somehow I doubt it. She will not countenance marrying again even though she is so young and fair. Any man would be glad to have her and many have tried in vain to woo the Lady Reaper. She'll have none of them.” 

“'Tis worse than a death sentence, poor lass! She loved that lad so-” said the sailor, shaking his head. “Ah, the Stark is a hard man! Begging pardon, m’lady, seeing as he’s your father.”

“There is not a man on the Isles that would not jump to have her as his own, but she mourns Balon's lost heir, the one the Greenlanders murdered at last.”

She supposed the islanders would see it as murder--murder by royal decree, even thought she roiled at the injustice for her father's sake. He'd had no choice, and it destroyed his friendship with Robert, once as close to him as a blood-brother.

It didn't make things any better, but at least it was harshly honest.

“What of the children? Can you tell me anything about them?” she asked with urgency.

“Harren and Dagmer. Two lovely little lads, they are.” the rough old sailors smiled at the thought of those lads, thinking of them with real affection. “Pride of the Isles they are, though Dagmer’s a little tyke at times.”

"High spirits, there's nowt wrong wi' that," protested his companion. "The lad has gumption and spirit, and he'll need it to make his way in th' world."

“Those young lads are the only heirs Balon has now. Pray he lives long enough to raise them to be men of the Isles!"

They raised their glasses. "Aye!"

* * *

_Would her sister even receive her?_ Arya asked herself as she hastened to the Harlaw stronghold, to see her sister. It was still up for speculation, based on what she heard from the harbour master and his companions. It didn't bode well that her sister still lived in seclusion, devoting herself to the children, still mourning for Theon after all these years.

_I have to try and persuade her for my father and mother's sake to return home even for a short while. It would mean so much to Mother, to see her elder daughter once more._

She arrived at Ten Towers, looking up at the higgledy-piggledy arrangement of towers all squashed together and feeling not a little daunted. 

An old woman in bare feet and kirtled skirts, so old she looked as if she could barely stand, let her in with a mumble and a distrustful glare. "'Appen ye might be visitor, aye?" Arya thought she said, though she was not sure.

“Mistress One-Tooth, who’s there?” said a familiar voice from the top of the staircase.

“Sansa?” Arya was taken by surprise.

The years had changed her. She still wore black without jewellery or adornment, the only hint of the old Sansa who had so liked pretty clothes was the subtle elegant embroidery round her high necked collar and cuffs in silver and black thread and the auburn rope of her long hair. She stood tall and straight like a tree toughened by rough winds but still standing.

Her elder sister unfroze, coming down the staircase two at a time. She held her at arm’s length taking her in as if she could never get her fill.

She felt brittle as if she was about to shatter and break. She felt thinner and more rangy, the youthful curves she remembered whittled away.

"Arya, you came."

"I didn't think you would want to see me." Arya smiled.

Sansa’s answering smile was rather bemused, as she pulled back, looking at Arya as if she would never get her fill, "Of course I want to see you. You’re my sister, aren’t you?”

\----

 

Arya was introduced to Ser Rodrik, a very genial man who treated her sister with kindness and respect, she noted.

“I am glad to see you made it here, Lady Arya. That crossing can be treacherous at the wrong time of year.” he told her, welcoming her to his home which had it's own eccentric charm.

"You are well here? You and the children thrive?"

"As well as can be expected."

They settled down to supper, which was plain, mostly fish and seafood but plentiful. The children sat with them, absolutely fascinated by their new visitor.

“Surely the King and Queen and Joffrey cannot still hold a grudge?” Even after all these years Sansa could not repress a shudder at the sound of his name. Even the thought of him, his grasping hands and his smarmy smile make her feel queasy. "We live as quiet as we can, we trade and Rodrik and I save as much as we can, and we have naught to do with kings and crowns."

“Well, you no longer have to worry about Joffrey.” Arya said lightly.

Sansa put her goblet down in surprise, “Why not? What’s he done now?”

It was time for her to break the news that the rest of the mainland was buzzing about, “He was murdered at a banquet. It's been the talk of the Seven Kingdoms.”

Sansa didn’t even try to hide the happiness she felt at Arya’s news. While Joffrey was alive she had never felt safe. Though she knew it was wrong to wish ill on any one, even if they thoroughly deserved it like the late Prince, she just felt an overwhelming relief at the news of his death from Arya.

“How did it happen?” she asked, clearly making an effort to keep her voice level and measured.

“The tale was that he choked to death, although some suspect that it may have been poison.” Arya reported. "- and it seems the Queen bit off more than she could chew. She is currently in disgrace as far as the reports. They say that King Robert seeks to nullify the union with her, though who knows if he will succeed." 

"Poison?" The court sounded a dangerous place. It sounded like she had a lucky escape from that cesspit of intrigue.

“None could prove it, and in all honesty few mourned him. Tommen is heir now, but he is too young and malleable to be of much trouble to you." Arya looked at her startled face , realising just how isolated Sansa had made herself living here in this quiet sleepy backwater. " You really have heard naught of this? Of Father's dispute with the Crown? The North seceding? The Stormlands and the Reach allying and cutting ties with King's Landing? Joffrey's actions triggered off quite a political storm"

Sansa's voice was surprisingly cold, like forged iron. "It could not have happened to a more deserving person. I hope he wanders the Seven Hells for the rest of eternity, he deserves no less."

“I had no idea you felt so vengefully.”

Sansa's blue eyes were bright with anger, “He and his family took the man I adored and the father of my children away from us. I might be able to forgive many things, sister, but never that.”

Arya respected that, in a strange way. She could see the effect the situation had on her. 

Time had mellowed her, turned down the heat of her hatred, but the unhappiness at first must have been terrible. Giving birth in a strange place, practically alone, without her husband and family to support her. Her troubles had made her tough and strong as forged steel, gentleness and softness planed away by suffering.

She had forgiven her family, though the emotional wounds would take a long time to heal on both sides. Joffrey and his scheming mother she would probably never forgive as long as she lived.

* * *

Sansa knocked on the door of Rodrik’s study. He set aside his tome and welcomed her in, in truth he had been expecting a visit from her since the arrival of her sister and had been waiting to see how she would approach the problem in front of her. 

“I did not want to disturb you, ser, it’s just.” She addressed with a polite little bob of a curtsey. 

Rodrik understood her dilemma at once. “You have need of talk. I understand. Come sit.” He waited until she settled in the high-backed chair opposite him. “Now what troubles you, Sansa?”

She sighed. “I don't know what to do. Arya wants me to see the family, to return to Winterfell. But-“ she ground to a halt.

“You're not sure if you can?” 

Sansa nodded in relief, glad that Rodrik seemed to understand her fears and misgivings.

“I think it is time to mend bridges with your mother and father. You know that you are family now and you are always welcome, you and the boys, but your real family must worry. It's all so sad and dreadful.”

“You really think that?” She asked. “I always thought you Islanders didn’t think much of my people.”

“Your father didn't have a choice.” Rodrik mused, considering the situation. “We cannot truly blame him, not when the king and his family were so intent on revenge, and when Victarion Greyjoy was so rash as to flaunt the silver fire in front the king and your father. It was a tragedy all round. I just wish we had been able to save him.” 

“So do I, Rodrik.”

“I know you must miss him terribly, we all do, but you cannot live in the past and hold on to old resentments.” He said.

"I don't have the right to deprive them of their family, but I have to keep them safe. What do I do?"

“Do you miss your family?” Rodrik asked with an astute gleam in his eye.

Sansa bowed her head, she wanted to weep. _She owed this man everything. How did he understand what was in her mind so clearly and with such compassion?_

“Yes, ser. I do.” 

"Then you must do what is right, for the lads and for you, and damn anyone who tries to stand in your way. The Starks are your blood, and you should not deny them or yourself."

She straightened her shoulders, resolute on her course now. “Thank you Ser Rodrik, I know my path now. May we go to Pyke in the morn? Balon will have to be consulted, and that’s going to be another struggle, no doubt.”

 

“I wish there was some way to heal your hurts, my girl.” He said softly as he watched her go, before returning to his tome in his lonely study.

* * *

"Arya?" Arya raised her head to find Sansa in her room. Her sister's face was pale but resolute, as if she was steeling herself for the task ahead, and facing it with grace, no matter the outcome. 

"I have thought about your request, Arya."

She sounded so cold and formal. She wondered if Sansa had forgiven the family for their part in the tragic events of five years ago or did she still hold a grudge for how things turned out.

“You have?”

"I will return with you to Winterfell. It is time."

It was not often that Arya managed to be surprised by her sister but she had just managed it.

“Naturally, I have to consult with Balon to take both the heirs from the Isles at the same time, but Rodrik seems to think we can persuade him. If he gives the go-ahead, we shall join you on the journey home.”

Arya was inclined to think that Balon was unlikely to give permission, given his low opinion of Greenlanders, but if Rodrik and Sansa thought they could persuade him then perhaps her mission might be a success after all.

"Thank you, Sansa."

* * *

Sansa, Rodrik and the children visited Pyke the next day. Arya was curious to see the Ironborn stronghold for herself, but Sansa told her that perhaps it wasn’t a good idea for her to join them on their visit.

They made their way up to the castle, forbidding and dank, the rope bridges swinging in the breeze as they crossed. The boys were excited to visit the rest of the family and could scarcely wait to see the rest of the family.

“We’re going to see Auntie Asha!” Dagmer near bounced with excitement.

Balon stood at the entrance, waiting for them to arrive. He was as grim as ever.

“Grampa, Grampa Balon!” the boys shouted as they tried to surge forwards. Sansa and Rodrik had a job trying to keep hold of them.

 "What brings you both here, looking so grim?"

Rodrik held his lord’s gaze. “We need to talk, all of us.”

* * *

Balon was not inclined to be in a receptive mood once he heard of Sansa’s request. He sat behind his desk, frowning as Rodrik and Sansa stated the case for their proposed visit with a face like a bulldog chewing a nettle. His scowl grew ever deeper as Sansa told him what she wanted to do.

“Go over to the mainland? With the lads? What for?”

She was ready for his objections. “My family wish to see me after many years. They also want to see the children and I feel it would be selfish to deny them. It would only be a short visit.”

“How do I know that you won’t just disappear to the Greenlands with our heirs and they would ne’er be seen again?” he eyed her accusingly.

“I give you my word I would return, upon my honour, Lord Balon-“ Sansa started.

“Forgive me, my lady if I am somewhat sceptical of your word. Not because you’d break it-“ he added seeing that she was going to protest. “-we all knows you have been loyal to us since we gave you sanctuary and accepted your lads as part of the family. The drowned God knows you put in a fair shift to improve our fortunes and drive a hard bargain on our behalf."

Rodrik was ever eager to make peace, knowing how prickly Balon could be about his family and how Sansa longed to see her family deep down. “Would it please my lord, if I went with her to the Greenlands and escorted them back at the end of the visit?”

“So ye would take that responsibility on yerself, would ye, Harlaw?” Balon eyed him appraisingly.

“Aye, I would.” Rodrik agreed.

Balon grunted, knowing when he had been defeated, “Very well, since I canna persuade to be sensible and stay here. But you’re on your honour to return with the lads.”

* * *

Sansa didn't know how to tell the children about the impending journey back to the mainland. The quiet life at Ten Towers was all they knew. Sansa rarely left the island, occasionally leaving to go to Pyke or Old Wyk on business or visiting, but that was as far as she travelled.

Balon insisted on regular visits, keeping a close eye on the boys and their upbringing as future rulers of the Isles, and the last offshoots of his once proud clan. She clashed often with him on methods, but in his own twisted crabbed way he loved those fatherless boys too, and Sansa made allowances for him.

“Boys! I want to talk to you for a moment.”

Harren and Dagmer stopped roughhousing and jostling each other.

“What is it, Mama?” Harren’s innocent face grinned up at her.

“Is this to do with your visitor?” Dagmer asked, little face lit up with curiosity. “She’s sailing back to the Greenlands soon, isn’t she?”

“That was my sister. She wanted to see us all. We're going to the Greenlands where I was born.” Sansa told them, hoping that by voicing it she would feel more positive and confident about the forthcoming journey, that things would work out and she could heal the scars of the last few years.

“An adventure!” Dagmer's eyes shone as he imagined the Greenlands, a place that he had heard of, but never imagined he would get to go to.

Harren clutched her hand, looking at her with big eyes full of fear and trepidation. She felt his little hand tremble in hers and she gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“What is it, Harren, love?”

He bent close to her, as if he was too embarrassed to let his twin hear his fears, “Mama, will they hurt us?” he whispered in her ear.

The boy had been listening to his grandfather and his scaremongering tales. Sansa gritted her teeth at the thought. How dare he frighten Harren! Balon had a great deal to answer for, in her book.

“I won't let anyone hurt you. You are my life, both of you.” Harren climbed into her lap and buried his face in her neck. She stroked his hair, a burst of love filling her heart for her boys.

_My sweet sensitive gentle boy. My strong brave warrior. You are all I have left._

 

* * *

As the group sailed from Harlaw harbour on their way to the mainland, Sansa wondered if she was doing the right thing, but it was too late for second thoughts, not now that she had committed herself.

 

_I’m afraid to return, afraid to face the past._

 

As the green coast loomed up in front of them and the prospect of returning to Winterfell once more, Sansa steeled herself to face her past. Her home and the scene of her love and her greatest tragedy.

Can I forgive, no matter how hard it is? For I cannot forget!

* * *

As the shore of her father's territory approached, Sansa saw a small party waiting for them.

“Oh Sansa, I thought we'd lost you forever-“ Cat hugged her close as if she would never let her go. “Thank you, thank you for coming back to us at last.”

It had been so long since she had felt the comforting warmth of her mother's embrace. Despite everything she had missed them all so much.

"These are the twins. I brought them here. I thought...” Sansa hesitated, looking for the right words to say. “I thought they should know their family.”

“Say hello to your grandfather and mother,” she urged them.

Dagmer held out his little hand with a bold confident smile. He smiled up at Lord Stark and Lady Stark, unafraid of anything.

“Dagmer Greyjoy, pleased to meet you.” he said.

Ned bent down to be at a level with the lad. He gave him a smile full of affection, ruffled his tousled dark hair. “You are most welcome to my halls, Master Greyjoy.”

“Is that a real Valyrian steel sword?” he asked, seeing Ice at Ned’s side. “Can I see it, Grandfather Ser?”

There was a hush from the adults, as they realised the awkwardness of the scene. It was just boyish curiosity, but Sansa could not forget that terrible day that King Robert had forced Ned to execute her love with his own ancestral sword.

Dagmer was prattling on, captivated by the thought of being near such an illustrious weapon. “Uncle Roddy has one, but he never lets me touch it, not until I’m big.”

“Maybe, that’s just as well-“ Ned said in relief.

“ I’m going to have one when I’m older.” Dagmer said with the confidence and innocence of youth. “I’m going to have a whole big fleet of ships, just like Auntie Asha and Great-Uncle Victarion, marry a fair lady like Mama and no one will ever sneer at us again.”

By contrast, Harren peeped from behind her skirts, a fearful look in his blue eyes, limpid and wide, so like Sansa’s that it made your heart ache to look at him.

“Say hello to your grandfather and mother,” she encouraged him gently, “They have waited a long time to see you both and they love and care for you very much.”

Sansa stroked his dark hair, encouraging him to let go of his shyness. "Come Harren, you know your courtesies. Come greet Lord and Lady Stark like your brother.” She urged him.

She could feel him shake his head in her skirts, his little shoulders heaving. The boy was very imaginative and sensitive. She knew that the tales of his father's sad fate affected him deeply and gave him the occasional nightmares. She'd been so cross when Balon insisted on telling them the tale in lurid detail, but he'd been thoroughly unrepentant. 

_They should know what happened to their father. Let them learn to hate as I do, the old man had said with a malevolent smile._

_-and will that bring your son, my love back Balon? she'd snapped protectively, comforting her distraught son as he trembled in his bed from vivid nightmares._

He looked up at her trustingly, looking to for reassurance in unfamiliar circumstances.

"Go on , Harren love, say hello. I'm here. No one will harm us here. We're home."

“Hello.” The lad was shyer and more sensitive than Dagmer. Ned wondered who the boy would fare in the harsher society of the Isles.

“My Lord, th- thank for your welcome.”

Cat froze, her face fallen in shock as she heard him stutter a little, reminded all of a sudden of another little boy who had come here all those years ago. Her heart went out to this sensitive little lad with eyes so like her own and her long lost daughter.

 

“He's just like him-“ Cat said faintly, staring at Harren as if he were a ghost. “It's like I'm being haunted, all over again.”

 

I promised that I would forgive, no matter how hard it is. Her mother had been haunted by her part in the tragedy, the strained relationship between her and Theon. The ward she had never wanted. The mistakes she had made and the loss of her daughter.

“My dear boy, your Mama is right. I am your Grandmother, and I have longed to see you very much.” She smiled at him and held her arms wide to embrace him.

 

Harren accepted her affection, allowing her to hug him tight.

 

“Why did you say I was just like him, Grandmama?” he asked, looking up at Cat from the comfort of her skirts.

Cat looked up at Sansa with alarm, startled that he had picked that up so swiftly.

“He’s very bright, and picks things up easily.” Sansa told her. “You have to watch what you say around him, although Balon doesn’t often feel the same way.” 

Rodrik said. “You might as well know, Lady Stark, that he was very reluctant to allow this journey here. He is very jealous of his heirs and after the death of his last son, well…I’m sure you can understand-"

“Your father, when he came here first, he was a young boy, just like you.” She reassured Harren.

“Will you tell me about him?” Harren asked, unable to hide the longing and eagerness in his voice. “On the Isles, they say he left as a boy so they hardly know, but Mama says he grew up here with her. Sometimes she tells us stories about him and her, but I don’t like to ask.”

“Why not?”

He leaned close to her, admitting a truth just between them. “It makes Mama sad.”

Cat stroked his hair, feeling a swell of maternal love for her grandson, “I will tell you everything you want to know about him, I promise.”

****

# The End

****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a long time to complete, but finally it is done!


End file.
